Void
by Aprill May
Summary: [SM] Naraku lets Sango in on a little secret about Kazaana. Follows canon. Or tries to. Complete.
1. Incentive

*****

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own Inuyasha. All related characters, story lines and other junk are property of Rumiko Takahashi. 

**Void**

**One: Incentive **

"Are you sure it's this way, Kagome-chan?" Sango, from atop the neko-youkai Kirara, yelled down to her female companion, who was riding on the back of the hanyou Inuyasha. 

"Yes, Sango-chan!" Kagome called back, narrowing her eyes against the onslaught of rushing wind. "I can feel it, the presence of more than one shard," the young miko whispered. "They feel horribly tainted." 

"If it's that bastard, then this is his final hour," growled Inuyasha. "He's finally realized he can't hide his ass in magic castles and send his little bastard experiments after us." 

Sango could feel how tense the houshi was behind her. His knuckles were splashed white from the tight grip he had on the staff around her waist, and he kept leaning into her, although not in a lecherous manner at all. Almost, it seemed, in desperation. 

"Houshi-sama," she said to him quietly, chancing a glance at his strained face. "We're a little bit closer to defeating him. We've come a little closer every time." She tried to sound optimistic, but it was lost on him. 

"Maybe," he replied, not looking at her. Sango turned her concentration back to the stretch of land in front of her, although Kirara was doing an adequate job of avoiding trees. 

"I can feel a barrier up ahead!" Miroku called out to the group. "Do you sense it, Kagome-sama?" 

Sango slowed Kirara and they skidded to a halt, spraying dried mud and grass around them. The humans that had been riding on her back promptly dismounted and ran over to Kagome and Inuyasha, who had stopped a split second after they had. 

"What do you suppose, Kagome-chan?" Sango inquired as she brought her hand slowly towards the invisible barrier. As her fingertips came in contact with the force field, a stinging electricity bit at her skin, and she flinched. Miroku quickly stepped in front of Sango, and tapped the air in front of him with his staff, causing some of the white electricity to lash onto it. 

"Why are we fucking wasting our time!" Inuyasha snapped, drawing out his Tetsusaiga, which transformed and shone red as he did so. He held it out in front of him, preparing to break the barrier with it, when a strong wind suddenly whipped at their clothes, and a smug female voice sounded behind them. 

"Well, I've been ordered to deal with the foolish hanyou and the weak humans once again," Kagura drawled in a bored tone, twisting her deadly fan around her nimble fingers. 

"Then why don't you fucking die bitch, and then we won't have to see your ass again!" Inuyasha roared, swinging Tetsusaiga and preparing to release the Wind Scar before Kagura began her manipulation of the wind. 

Anticipating this move, the wind demon swung her fan across her body, and great spirals of wind began crashing into the ground around the group. 

"Shit!" Inuyasha yelled, scooping up Kagome. Kagura was maniacally sending powerful blasts of wind at them, causing all sorts of landscape to rip from the group and disorient the companions. 

Miroku was being driven in all directions by the rampaging wind, and found his back against a tree. "Houshi-sama!" Sango called, forcing her way towards him, shielded by her Hiraikotsu. She held it up in front of them, and fought to keep it there as debris bounced heavily off its surface. 

"Ane-ue." 

Sango froze. Was it just the wind? 

"I want to talk to you, Ane-ue. I miss you." 

She glanced behind her, and she saw it. A quick flash of amber armor, and the telltale clang of a long chain. It had to be him. 

She released a breath that she hadn't known she was holding. 

"Sango!" Miroku's voice penetrated her thoughts, forcing her back to their situation. He was holding her tightly against him to keep the wind from dislodging her from her feet. She turned her attention back to Kagura, and her frustration doubled. Crying out, she charged forward still grasping her weapon in front of her. 

"Let him go you horrible bitch! Why did you bring him here!" 

Tears of frustration flew from her eyes from the force of the wind blowing towards her. 

_'Kohaku must be here.'_

The realization came a moment too late, and when Miroku reached out to Sango to stop her from letting go of Hiraikotsu, Kagura took the opportunity and sent a devastating wind blade directly at her. 

Miroku could only look on horrified as Sango brought forward the boomerang bone as a shield, and the raw white power of the wind blade pounded into it. Dirt piled against her heels, and beads of sweat poured down Sango's temples as she pushed against the force. There was a deafening crack as Hiraikotsu was wrenched from her hold and she was pulled into the rushing air. Kagura watched in slight concentration as the young taijiya was pulled higher and higher into the current by her power. 

"Hey!" Inuyasha yelled desperately. "Fight me, you bitch!" 

Kagura smiled thinly. "When I am done here," she said lazily. "Despite how fun this is, I still have orders." She made eye contact with the houshi, and when he returned her gaze with one of panic, she laughed, a wicked, unfeeling laugh, and flicked her fan closed. 

Miroku turned and ran towards where Sango's limp body was falling towards the canopy of trees at an alarming speed. He couldn't remember anything at the moment, except that if something didn't break her fall, he would find the mangled corpse of his special girl. 

He kept running, and it wasn't until he heard the faint shrieks of Kagome-sama that he remembered the barrier. Another painful crack echoed through the forest as he slammed into the barrier, and was thrown back in a storm of white lightning. Steam rose off of monk's robes, as he lay motionless on the torn earth. 

Kagura yanked at the feather in her hair and the large white feather materialized. It instantly rose in the air as Kagura sat atop it, laughing mockingly at Inuyasha and Kagome. She raised her fan another time. 

"I might as well have my fun before I leave," she announced, and with a swish of her wrist, the fan opened. 

Inaudible cursing streamed from Inuyasha's mouth as he and Kagome stared defiantly up at the wind sorceress. 

* 

Her head throbbed and she could feel convulsions of pain in her sides. She clawed at the ground and rose to a kneeling position, cradling her head. As she looked up to assess her situation, Sango came face to face with the young face of her younger brother Kohaku. She fought back the urge to take him in her arms and cry, and hope that he was hers for real now, that she had finally won him back. She knew better than that. She knew that Naraku wouldn't have given him back so easily. If Kohaku was here, of course it wasn't of his own free will. 

The whole situation was painfully familiar as it was. She had been separated from the others, and a strange barrier had been erected. However, since Inuyasha had the barrier breaking Tetsusaiga, Kagura had been sent to thwart them. She chanced a quick glance at the area around them, and noted that indeed, there was a thick blanket of mist that obscured any scenery farther than the length of Hiraikotsu. 

As she stared warily at him, she noticed that his face held an expression of dark sadness. There were purple bags below his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in days, and he looked so worn and tired, that it was as though... 

"Ane-ue," he gasped through a dry throat, as he lurched forward and embraced Sango tightly. His small hands gripped the red length of cloth that wound across her back and he buried his face in the front of her shoulder, staining the black fabric with tears. "I know everything that happened. I killed everyone! Father...and all of our friends," he sobbed, choking and gasping for air. His face was red from crying, and his shoulders trembled. 

Sango's heart ached for him. At this moment, her deep hatred for Naraku reached a burning point. She tightened her own arms around her younger brother and patted his back gently, trying to stop him from trembling. She continued comforting him as he desperately choked out stammered apologies, until her senses as a taijiya alerted her to another presence, emerging from the thick blanket of mist. 

She stiffened and instinctively tightened her hold on Kohaku as the bastard himself materialized in front of her. Next to him was the white offspring of nothingness, Kanna, holding her round mirror in front of her. As usual, she was eerily silent, and stared at the siblings with a blank expression. 

Naraku's face twisted into a horrible smirk as he surveyed the two young humans on the ground before him. As he made to move forward, Sango immediately pushed Kohaku behind her and got to her feet in defense, brandishing her blade in front of her. "Get away from us, you sick bastard," Sango growled in disgust and anger. 

He regarded her as though he had just noticed she was there. "You haven't learned, have you, Sango?" he asked airily. "You can't win. Especially in a position I intended to have you in." 

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and Sango felt a heavy weight drop behind her. She glanced back quickly, and her eyes met the sight of her brother lying in a heap upon the earth. 

She couldn't lose him, not again. She fought to keep her emotions in check, but she knew it would only be a matter of time before he awoke as Naraku's minion once again. Sango charged at Naraku with her blade, a foolish move she knew, but with the odds stacked against her, she could only hope that her friends would come and retrieve her soon. 

The evil energy of the barrier burned through her armor and through her skin. She screamed in pain as the feeling of a thousand needles piercing her skin washed over her in waves. She was thrown back, landing heavily on her side, her limbs still convulsing with the intensity of Naraku's barrier. 

"Kanna, " Naraku said to his offspring, who came forward quietly. "Show her," he commanded. 

Kanna stood over Sango, expressionless, and tilted the mirror slightly so she could see her own bruised, bleeding face reflected back at her. The image faded, and instead was replaced with one of Inuyasha, who had Kagome balanced precariously on his back. He fought to keep her stable, as she was desperately trying to fit an arrow to her bow. Wind blades were shaking the earth in tremors as they collided with the ground around them. Hundreds of low class youkai were swarming the two, and Sango could hear Inuyasha's echoing yells as he disposed of them and dodged Kagura's blades. Dust and dirt rose from the ground in clouds where they struck, and soon the hanyou and the miko were obscured from Sango's vision. 

The images faded into the reflection of her face. She hadn't noticed how hard she had been biting on her lip, and a small trail of blood formed from the cut to her chin. Her heart pounded in her chest as she remembered whom she hadn't been shown. 

"Is that all?" Sango spat at Naraku. 

He sneered at her mockingly, as though she was an ant he was about to step on. 

Her reflection in the mirror faded into another image. It was still the same area, except that the sounds of fighting were faint. The view changed, and she saw him. He was lying on his back, his robes and face marred with dirt and scratches. A constant stream of youkai pieces was landing in various areas around him, and blood was streaming from his temple. Sango's heart felt as though it would explode seeing him like this, but when she noticed the steady rise and fall of his chest, she was slightly relieved. 

The perspective changed, and Sango saw Kagura smiling nastily. The winds gathered around her, and began to form the devastating tornadoes of the Wind Dragon. "Let's give him a piece of the action, " Kagura declared, and with great exaggeration of her movements, directed her fan at Miroku, who was beginning to stir. 

"MIROKU!" Inuyasha roared, pivoting in his direction as the tornado shot towards him. 

The image faded into the reflection of Sango's fearful face. Kanna held the mirror to her chest and drew back behind Naraku. 

"Do you want him to die, Sango?" Naraku asked in a bored tone. 

"Leave him be, asshole!" Sango responded fiercely, trying to get to her feet. He remained unfazed. 

"You know it and I know it Sango. He will die. Soon, if I am not mistaken. After all, I did give his family the curse myself." 

"He will kill you," Sango hissed, now on her hands and knees. "We will all kill you, and dance on your remains." 

"You have the nerve to say that to me while you have been reduced to crawling on your hands and knees?" Naraku laughed. 

"When the Kazaana consumes him, it will be unexpected, and all of your pathetic group will be drawn in along with him," he reminded her in a low voice. 

He placed his foot on her shoulder and forced her body flat on the ground again. Sango winced as gravel and sand was embedded onto her skin. 

"There is a way to close it." 

"Shut up bastard, I don't see any reason I should believe the lies that come out of your twisted mouth." 

"The only reason his family received the curse is because they were fools who wanted women. It was only because I disguised myself as a woman and his grandfather foolishly pursued me that their line was cursed." 

Sango remained silent. 

"I had to show them it was a human weakness to love women, and to foolishly seek them." 

"Is that all you have to say Naraku? You will die before the void consumes him, so you should be the one counting the remaining days of your life!" Sango interrupted. She didn't want to hear any more about Miroku's curse. She had already implanted in her mind the fantasy that Miroku and Kohaku would live, Naraku would die, and they would be together. 

"If the bearer of the curse fell in love with a woman, and they joined, he would die soon after by the void. If he didn't, he would inevitably die alone. If he consumed the girl through the air void, it would close and he would live. But he would live with the knowledge that he had taken another life, the life of one he loved, to continue his own, and it would be his own loneliness and weakness that would cause his death." 

"This has nothing to do with me!" Sango shouted. She had to make him stop telling her this. The more he spoke, the more she believed him. 

"It has everything to do with you, pitiful warrior," he said with another smirk. "It would be like killing two birds with one stone." 

He bent forward, closer to Sango's head. "If you choose to close the fool's Kazaana, I will deliver this present to him in memory of you." 

Naraku dragged Kohaku forward by his collar, and dropped his body in front of Sango. She could still see the redness on his cheeks from his tears. 

"But until then," Naraku began. He placed a finger to Kohaku's forehead and the young boy's eyes instantly shot open. He stood up slowly stared down silently at Sango, reaching for his chain scythe. 

In a panic, Sango twisted her body and began to drag herself backward away from her brother. She stood, supporting herself with a hand on her knee, and uncovered the blade on her right arm. 

She brought her arm in front of her just as the scythe blade flew towards her neck, and she knocked it away. 

"I want it exactly as last time, Kohaku, don't kill her yet. I'm counting on a different end to her life." 

Sango's eyes widened as her brother deftly caught his weapon and advanced towards her. He swung his arm back and threw his weapon, the chains rattling as they extended. 

As Sango fought off Kohaku in defense, she could hear Naraku taunting her. "Consider this, an incentive if you will, " he drawled lazily. 

Suddenly the world stilled, as a familiar pain shot through her back. She fell to her knees as the scythe blade embedded itself into her skin, her blood searing as it soaked through the black fabric. She whimpered as it was wrenched out, causing more painful spasms, and footsteps echoed away into nothingness. The mist dispersed. 

Sango shut her eyes tightly. She could remember everything in perfect detail about that night. She was laying lifeless on the floor, arrows pierced through her skin, her brother beneath her, unconscious and covered in arrows as well. However, the pain was more intense now. The wound had been reopened in the same manner, but the one who had inflicted it upon her had gone, and she lay in her own blood and sweat alone. 

Then he was there, jumping off the back of Kirara and landing unsteadily on his feet due to his own sustained injuries. Sango watched him rush towards her and turn her over gently. "Sango," he said worriedly. "You're hurt." She sat up slightly, and he unknotted the length of fabric around him and pressed it to her wound, tinting the purple with scarlet. 

She grimaced in agony as he applied more pressure to the freshly opened gash, and she fell limply forward into his shoulder. He brought his arm around her, and stroked the back of her neck softly. It was his cursed hand, she knew, because she could fell the telltale roundness of the prayer beads scraping her neck. 

"What happened?" 

Sango craned her neck to look at him, and when she looked at his face, she did not receive the comfort and warmth that his eyes usually provided her. The more he held her, and tried his best to ease the pain, she could only cry. 

It confused him. 

__________________* 

So, this is it. It won't stretch as long as the other AU fic, probably five chapters maximum. I absolutely hate writing battle scenes, Naraku, and any other sort of evil character because it comes out so cheesy. I also vowed to myself never to touch the 'Kazaana' fic, but the idea wouldn't leave me alone! Well, just be glad that I didn't attempt to describe Naraku's weird new body. Until next. 

Why do I even bother? Not like anyone reads this stuff anyway. =) 

_Void: Incentive revised and uploaded March 16th 2004_


	2. Nightmares

Disclaimer: All previous disclaimers apply, but just to be thorough, I do not own Inuyasha. 

****

**Void**

**Two: Nightmares**

****

The brightly shining sun mirrored the exact opposite of the atmosphere surrounding Kaede's hut. Not too far away, a young kitsune sat in the lap of a strangely dressed miko, and both were sullen, though the miko hid it behind optimism, and the kitsune asked questions she couldn't answer. 

"Kagome, will Sango be okay?" Shippou asked tearfully. Although he showered Kagome with affection, and enjoyed sleeping next to her on her bedroll, he really did love the demon exterminator, because she was kind hearted, and protected him. Seeing her lying silently on her front, covered in bandages truly broke his heart. 

She gave him a reassuring smile, and stroked the auburn mass of hair on the kitsune's head. "You know how strong Sango-chan is, right Shippou?" He nodded slowly. "Then you know that she'll recover, and be better than ever." 

He still looked somewhat unconvinced when he heard this, which was strange. "Why does she look so sad then, Kagome, why won't she smile at me? How come she won't even say anything to us!" The kitsune began to wail, and Kagome had to gather him up in an embrace, patting his small back comfortingly. 

When his crying had subsided, she placed him back into her lap. "Sango just needs a little more time to heal, after that, I'm sure she'll be fine. It's a pretty deep wound, remember that Shippou," Kagome explained. "Just forgive Sango-chan for not speaking to us, she hasn't told any one what happened since she was injured." The kit reflected upon this, and fidgeted into a more comfortable position on the miko's lap. He closed his eyes, perhaps in contemplation, or maybe to nap, but he looked up at Kagome once more, hopefully. "Do you think I would have been able to help?" 

She smiled. "Yes Shippou-chan, we really needed you back there." He grinned in brief self-satisfaction. "Then next time don't run off and leave me here. I was bored!" With that, he rolled over and his face was no longer visible. 

'_I don't know if any of us will be able to help_,' Kagome thought sadly. She glanced at Inuyasha, who was worrying about Sango in his own way, atop a tree, sulking, head back, eyes closed. '_It's not just the injury_,' she speculated, ' _it's the nature of the injury._' Her gaze focused on Miroku, who was sitting a distance away with a small Kirara, his back to her. 

'_I could sense that he was there too, along with Naraku. Sango met with Kohaku-kun_.' 

* 

The pain in her back had subsided to a dull ache, occasionally becoming numb, and then unexpectedly painful once again. True to the kitsune's story, Sango hadn't spoken so much as a coherent sentence since being taken back to the village to recuperate, save for a few ragged breaths when her wound was being treated. 

She knew that she would have to explain soon, it was inevitable. They would want to know everything, and were being politely patient in waiting for her to recover, however Sango knew better. Most likely, it was eating away at their insides, and more than once, Kagome had to subdue Inuyasha for becoming frustrated at Sango's reluctance to tell them anything. 

Propping her elbows on the ground, she rested her chin in her palms. When Kaede had left her to sleep, she found herself staring emptily into a corner. Every time she closed her eyes and attempted to force sleep on herself, a thick fog would cloud her mind and she heard the same silk-laced voice, taunting her, maddening her. 

Her eyes would fly open, and droplets of sweat would be building on her temples. She would be clutching her blanket so tightly that the veins on her wrists were raised. 

She would dream of _him_, her brother, or more accurately, what was left of him, a body with his appearance. In her dreams, he would charge at her, swinging his weapon in offense. Her heart would pound in adrenaline, and she would find herself unable to move. At this point in her nightmare, she would see a limp male body fall on the ground in front of her, a scythe skewered into his back. 

She would see herself cry out and fall on her knees, her mouth open in silent screams. She'd crawl to him, apologizing on her behalf, over and over. Her hands became covered in his blood as she wrenched out the blade and threw it, in disgust, at Kohaku's feet. A torrent of tears would spill from her eyes, and as she harshly swiped at them her cheeks were stained in blood as well. 

The injured man would be consoling her, comforting her, even as he was gradually slipping away. She would gather him in her arms, and tell him how she had harboured a deep love for him for so long it felt like forever. 

Clumsily, she would kiss him and gently brush his hair away from his face. She loved him, and she would die for him. Her fingers pulled at something around his forearm, a mighty wind swirled around her, and she was gone. The sun then rose, her brother lived, and the man was no longer cursed. 

__

_'Houshi-sama....'_

__

The questions would plague her every waking moment, and torture her as she slept. __

__

_*_

As beams of light shone through the cracks between the wood panels that made up the walls of the hut, Sango decided that it was doing her no good to lay around on her front and waste everyone's time. After all, each minute they wasted waiting for her was a minute more for Naraku to plot. 

She hoisted herself up on her arms and stood, arching her back gingerly. She wobbled to the doorway and threw back the makeshift cloth that hung there, squinting at the sudden onslaught of sunlight. 

Instantly, Kagome was running towards her, yellow bag slung on her back, Shippou bouncing up and down on her shoulder. "Sango-chan! What are you doing?" she demanded, coming to a stop next to her and slinging one of Sango's arms over her shoulder. 

"I'm quite alright, Kagome-chan," Sango retorted. "I've been doing nothing but resting since yesterday." 

Her friend still looked skeptical. "You should have at least called for one of us first. See? You're all wobbly!" Kagome pointed out, as they began walking down the dirt path towards the river that ran next to the village. Sango shrugged her off. "Of course I'd be unstable on my feet, Kagome-chan, I haven't used them for quite a while. " 

Shippou scampered across Kagome's arm and onto Sango's other shoulder. "We're all so worried about you Sango," he exclaimed, nuzzling the side of her head. Sango awkwardly reached her arm up to pat him on the cheek. "I'm sorry for making you all worry, Shippou," she apologized profusely. 

Kagome helped Sango sit down shortly before plopping down next to her. She hummed as she took a few of the clear bottles from her time out of her bag. She smiled as she divided them between herself, Sango, and Shippou, and asked that they all fill them up with water from the stream. 

Sango felt a warmness towards the young miko for this brief distraction. It was as though she knew that Sango had many troubles on her mind and she needed a distraction. Sango laughed softly as Kagome and Shippou filled Sango in on Inuyasha and Kagome's latest tiff, and the mood was considerably lightened as Sango momentarily pushed her troubles to the back of her mind and engaged in a playful water fight with the miko and the kitsune. 

* 

After the threesome had returned from the river, Kagome carrying a considerably heavier backpack, they found the remaining members of their group. The hanyou was haughty of course, and muttered remarks about the healing power of humans under his breath. Though, with a look from Kagome, he asked Sango if she was all right to travel. 

Miroku was strangely silent, and seemed to be distracted, but when Sango questioned him, he immediately pasted a smile on his face. He held out Kirara to her, who promptly jumped onto her shoulder. "Feeling okay, Sango?" he asked gently. Sango nodded, and managed a smile. "Yes, I'm feeling much better," she answered, then turned to the rest of the group. "I'm ready to travel now, I think." 

"About time!" Inuyasha snorted. 

"Sit." 

* 

Surprisingly, no one had pressured her about what caused her injury, though she suspected and concluded that Kagome had spoken to the rest of the group beforehand. 'She is a smart girl,' Sango mused. 'Of course, she sensed a Shikon shard. She probably figured out it was Kohaku.' Still, she was grateful that they knew, yet she was not obliged to relive the event for them. 

With a final check by Kaede, and a new roll of bandages applied around Sango's chest, the companions were on their way again. They mostly walked in silence, except for Kagome, who was fussing over a tear on Inuyasha's sleeve. Shippou was hopping over Kirara every few steps behind them, while Miroku observed their game with a smile. Sango had kept to the back of the group. She had been keeping up well at first, but as the late afternoon arrived, she was noticeably lagging behind. 

Miroku heard dragging footsteps behind him, and turned around to check on Sango. She was bent down, supporting her hands on her knees, and breathing heavily. He rushed towards her, and put a hand on her upper back. She visibly stiffened, and the relaxed and stood up straight again. "I'm fine, Houshi-sama, " she said nonchalantly, and made to begin walking again. "Wait, Sango." He walked up behind her, and began tugging on the straps of Hiraikotsu. 

"Houshi-sama," Sango sputtered, as she was jerked from side to side. "What _are_ you doing?" He succeeded in pulling the heavy bone off her shoulder, and hoisted it onto his own back. "Sango," he said with a smile. "You keep forgetting about yourself. You have a back injury, yet you carry a heavy weapon across it." 

He offered her his staff. "You'll find that it's much easier to walk with this." 

Sango immediately blushed. "Houshi-sama, why-" she began, but he had already pushed the staff into her grasp, and closed her fingers around it. "That should feel a bit better," he stated, and slowed his pace to walk next to her. She looked away, her face burning. Staring hard at the ground, she spoke. "Thank you, Houshi-sama." 

The familiar warm feeling lingered for a while, until the time came that he should do something inappropriate. Naturally, it was only fair that he grope her. Annoyance flitted across her face as she made to slap him, but as he was standing next to her, it was proving difficult. So she moved to her back up plan, which would normally be Hiraikotsu. She became doubly annoyed as he shook the strap holding her weapon around his shoulder playfully. He grinned in victory. 

Sango leaned onto his staff, with a mock-defeated look on her face. "You know what, Houshi-sama, " she said menacingly. "I am trained to fight with a staff." 

With that, she brought it down on his head. 

* 

The sun had set, and Shippou, who noticed the effects of fatigue on the humans, had suggested that Inuyasha find a suitable spot to make camp. 

Night had soon fallen, and Kagome had settled in her sleeping bag, along with Shippou. Just above them keeping watch sat Inuyasha, clutching his sword to his chest. Miroku was leaning back against a tree, eyes closed, but not asleep. He could hear a distinct shuffling around nearby him, and would not put his mind at ease until it stilled. 

That shuffling was Sango, who was having a difficult time finding a comfortable sleeping position. Cradling her head under her arm was proving difficult, because it stretched a still healing muscle in her back. Lying on her back wasn't that comfortable either, for obvious reasons, and when your pillow was a carrying cloth full of armour, lying on your front was even less satisfying. 

She sat up frustrated, and shook the contents of the carrying cloth on the ground and placed them a safe distance away. It was then that she heard a disturbance not too far off, and footsteps approaching her. 

Miroku kneeled next to her, the fire casting long shadows across his face. "Trouble sleeping, Sango?" he whispered. Sango crossed her arms over her chest, and looked away. "It's just hard finding a nice position on the ground when I have an injury, Houshi-sama," she said stubbornly. 

He stayed next to her, and Sango was just about ready to order him away, when she heard the familiar rustle of fabric. "Wh-What are you doing now!" Sango exclaimed. Miroku motioned for her to lower her voice. She attempted to twist her body around to see what he was doing behind her, but it still pained. "Damn," she whispered. "Damn injury." 

Miroku straightened up, and swiped his hands together. "There," he said simply. Sango looked at him dumbfounded. "Lie down now," he ordered. She continued looking at him. Sighing, he gently pushed her shoulders down. There was something soft under her back and neck, and she finally felt relaxed. "Now go to sleep," Miroku said passively, and walked away. 

Sango turned her head slightly. The fabric was firm, but soft, and smelled greatly of him. Of incense, forest air, and fields after a harsh rain. He must have taken off his kesa again. She stole a glance at his heavily shadowed form. ' Why does he always do such nice things for me? ' Sango pondered. ' Doesn't he think of himself? ' 

The warmth of the fire and the silence of the night eventually lulled Sango to sleep. It was then that the nightmares returned to her. 

* 

She was running through the fog again. There was a stitch in her side, and her legs were beginning to ache. 

_" Sango, if you do it, you will save the lives of those you love."_

She kept on running, trying to escape the complacent voice. "I'd save them, but you'd still be alive!" 

_" What would you rather have Sango, your brother, the monk and myself alive? Or would you rather me alive, and both of them dead?"_

__

__"I'd rather you dead! You, and only you!" 

_"You'll never defeat me."_

__

__"We will! All of us will!" 

_"Spare more time for the worthless lives of the monk and your brother."_

__

__"We have enough time!" 

_"Do you?"_

__

__She stopped running, and fell to her knees in angry tears. 

_"Your life is worthless, Sango."_

__

__'My life is...' 

She punched the dirt, and cried out in frustration. 

* 

Silently, Sango sat up from her spot and stood. Her eyes were still half lidded, but her hands were shaking. She turned towards Miroku, who was now soundly asleep, and her breath caught in her throat. Her feet forced themselves to stagger to him, and oddly, they barely made a sound. 

She continued to breathe deeply. Her mind was unfocused and was not able to tell the reality of the situation from the events of her dream. _This man that I love, he was seriously hurt, by Kohaku. I can't let it happen again. _She fell to her knees, still in a mindless stupor, but the Sango in the waking world violently shed tears like the counterpart contained in her nightmare. 

Inuyasha was now awake and running towards them as Sango reached towards Miroku's hand. 'What the hell?' he thought. His eyes widened as he took a few steps back from them. He opened his mouth to curse at the both of them. 

In one fluid motion, Sango's eyes opened fully and she took in a breath sharply as she seized Miroku's forearm and yanked forcefully at the sky blue chain of rosary beads. 

His eyes opened instantly as the rosary unravelled from around his wrist and thrown a good distance away. He took in the small hand grasping his arm tightly, the trembling shoulders of Sango, her other arm letting the rosary beads fly from her fingers. Her eyes were bloodshot from tears, and her teeth were grinding together in frustration. But there was something he couldn't quite place. 

Sango locked eyes with him momentarily, then began to pry his fingers apart from the tight fist he held them in. He realized in horror what would happening, and shut his fist tightly. Sango faltered, and he reached for her with his other hand and grasped her wrist tightly. She recoiled as he pushed his weight against her, and brought both his forearms across her chest. 

Kagome, Shippou and Kirara had all awakened by now, and were looking on fearfully at the situation. Inuyasha stood over them, unsure of what to do. 

Sango fell heavily onto her back, and Miroku pressed his forearms down, pinning her in place. 

"Sango," he gasped, his voice growing hoarse with panic and desperation. 

"What the hell did you think you were doing!" he continued, emphasizing each word by shaking her shoulders with his arms, pushing her into the dirt. _'I can't be so rough,'_ he chastised himself. _'She's still injured, however-'_

__

"Answer me!" he demanded. "Sango!" 

Sango's eyes glazed over, and then became clear. "Houshi-sama?" 

"What the hell is going on?" Miroku demanded. He was clearly angry, his voice rising in tone with every syllable. 

"What the fuck were you doing!" There were tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. 

They dropped heavily onto her cheeks, and she began to cry as well. "I'm sorry," she cried. "I'm so sorry." 

He looked at her harshly. "Did you know what you were doing?" He berated her in frustration. 

She turned her head away from him. "You don't understand," she whispered. "I don't even understand." 

Miroku became confused at these words. "Understand what? Sango, what is there to understand!" 

____________________* 

This was supposed to be a short chapter, but it ended up as pretty long and pretty heavy. I was originally going to end it at "What the hell did you think you were doing," but it wrote itself from there, the only problem was that the ending now ended up kind of stupid. Oh, and everyone is OOC, and my vocabulary sucks, and there's a million other things I'll probably find later on the re-read, but that's life. I think I should mention that the night before I started this chapter, I watched the episode "That Unforgettable Face," and the whole 'Sango holding the rosary beads and gripping Miroku's arm' bit was inspired from the 'I'm going to kill Kohaku and then kill myself' scene. I guess that'll help you imagine it. Okay, I'm sounding dumber as I go on. Until next! 

_Void: Nightmares uploaded and revised March 28th 2004_


	3. Knowing You

_Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Inuyasha and Co._

**Void **

****

**Three: Knowing You**

Miroku disliked the feeling of confusion. He was the kind of person that liked to be in control of a situation, or at least have ample knowledge of whatever task he was tackling. Confusion meant that one was lost, with no understanding of their predicament, and therefore, was ill-prepared for anything. Which was exactly how he was feeling at this moment. 

The impact of waking up one night to find Sango grasping his forearm and wrenching off the protective chain of beads from around it still had not worn off. The sight of her, tears streaming down her cheeks, her expression anxious, fearful, and strangely determined, holding the beads above her head, had implanted itself in his mind. It was quite an unpleasant way to be awoken. 

Guilt of how he had reacted still burdened his shoulders. The first feeling had been, of course, confusion. Why was Sango awake and what was she doing that required her to fiddle with his cursed arm. Next, he had experience pure panic and trepidation. She was prying his fingers apart from his instinctive fist, which had awoken the following realizations in his mind. His Kazaana was unsealed, and if he released it, she would be instantly drawn in. 

She had enough knowledge of the Kazaana that she had to know opening it would cause her death. He concentrated on her aura while he had her pinned down. It was her, only her, he didn't sense any evil energy or spirits. Sango had been completely herself that night, yet she hadn't at all. 

If she had been possessed, she wouldn't have remembered her actions, or at least recall not having control. But she had apologized, and told him that he didn't understand. 

What he understood was she was trying to get herself killed, and what she had done was foolish, careless, and dangerous. He was completely lost regarding anything else. 

The one thing that stayed with him like his shadow was the fact that Sango knew something about his curse that he didn't, and that alarmed him. 

* 

The mood surrounding the group was tense once again, ever since Miroku and Sango had been discovered the night before. Leaving Miroku, Sango and Kirara to their own devices, the rest of the group had gone to the nearby village to investigate any new leads or rumours. 

Sango sat silently brooding in the grass on the edge of a plateau that slowly sloped down and rose again like a valley. Kirara was with her, chasing butterflies nearby. Sometimes her gaze would stray to Miroku, who was in deep contemplation himself, seated near the brook that ran through the dip between the two hills. 

After he had reprimanded her last night, his eyes had been swimming with many conflicting emotions. He was angry at her, yes, but he was also confused, panicked, and... scared. 

He had her held down tightly, pressuring her to answer questions and tell him things that she couldn't. What was she supposed to say? She could just see picture the conversation in her mind. 

'Well Houshi-sama, I've been having recurring dreams about being sucked into your Kazaana, and I guess I took it a little too far. Oh, did I fail to mention that if I did get sucked in, the curse would be broken? That's what you get for being a stupid pervert anyway.' 

Truthfully, she didn't know what to think. Naraku could of course be telling the truth. But that didn't rule out the fact the he could be lying. After all, his sick twisted mind did enjoy seeing two people betray and kill each other. 

How could he even be sure it was her that would close Kazaana? Didn't the girl have to be one that he loved unconditionally? Sango laughed bitterly at that thought. In that case, there was plenty a chance that she wasn't the target, and Naraku, that bastard who didn't understand human feelings, just assumed she would do. No, love was more complicated than that. 

It was possible that it wouldn't work if the feelings were only one sided. 

Still, what mental force was so strong that it had the ability to blur her perception between dream and reality? Was it a sign of how much this knowledge burdened her? 

Houshi-sama was never one to openly declare his innermost feelings or thoughts, especially regarding details related to his curse. 

Collected and serene in relaxation, level-headed and strategic during battle, perverted and sly in-between, when he had looked at her in fear and anger, he had truly scared her. She had been the one who invoked those rarely witnessed feelings in him. 

* 

She knew he could hear her approaching even when she was still a good distance away. Somehow, he was able to identify the soft footsteps skidding slightly on the grass and quiet breaths as hers. When he visibly stiffened as she neared him, a thick, uneasy silence built in the space between them as Sango was hesitant to step any closer. 

"Is there something you need, Sango?" he asked, not turning around. The heat began to build in Sango's back as she heard his voice, not smooth and polite, or joking. It was simply distant, and indifferent. 

"Houshi-sama," she began, willing her voice to stop cracking. "I want you to know, you have my deepest apologies for...for-" 

"No need to keep apologizing," he cut in sharply. "I accept it without question." 

Sango winced inwardly at this tone he kept using on her. As if she was a merchant offering him cheap trinkets, an annoyance, a stranger. 

"Is that all?" his shrewd voice cut through the silence that had begun to form. Sango opened her mouth to retort when they heard a young kitsune calling them over in an obscenely loud voice. 

And they were walking again. Kagome looked reasonably downcast, Shippou mimicking her, and they both kept looking over at Sango and Miroku, who were walking behind another respectively. Sango had been petting Kirara, however she wasn't really concentrating on it and was now repeatedly tapping her on the head with her palm, irritating the small demon. Miroku held his staff loosely between his fingers, and the end of it dragged along the ground behind him. 

Both of them looked so distressed that if they didn't focus on their walking they would soon fall into a ditch. 

Inuyasha had just made an exaggerated noise of impatience when he heard the unmistakable sound of a shakujo hitting the dirt. He turned around, aggravated, but that changed into uneasiness when he saw Miroku hunched over, face hidden from view, one hand gripping his arm. 

Sango hung back, her natural instincts telling her to run to his side and put a hand on his shoulder, but in light of recent events, she prevented herself from doing so. 

"Miroku-sama!" Kagome exclaimed, doubling back closer to him. "Are you okay?" 

His expression still pained, he gripped his forearm and opened his hand, staring into his palm. "I-I don't know Kagome-sama. It's been a little sore, but not too bad. Just now it..." His voice dissipated to silence when he met Sango's anxious gaze. 

His arm dropped deftly to his side. "It's nothing." 

Kagome put her hands on her hips. "It's not nothing, Miroku-sama. If your arm is hurting, and it is because you said so just one minute ago, you should go get help for it." 

"It's nothing, just a brief ache. Probably from fighting that youkai a few nights ago," he said, waving a dismissive hand in front of him. 

"That youkai, as you say, was so weak that you could've stepped on it!" Kagome countered, now jabbing a finger into his chest. "Which Inuyasha did, for that matter. We're not moving from this spot until you go to see Mushin-sama about this soreness." 

Inuyasha's jaw hung visibly. "Kagome!" he whined. "That village, we got a lead, but we have to get to the next town before nightfall to follow it!" 

"Well," Kagome declared, crossing her arms. "We'll just have to see what Miroku-sama says." 

"Fine, " Miroku said shortly. "We'll go. Quickly, not more than one day." 

"A day?" Inuyasha asked in disbelief. "Can't you just suck it up for a little longer?" 

"No, he can't!" Kagome said, rounding on Inuyasha. Suddenly, she paused, regarding Inuyasha in a new light. She whirled around. "Maybe we can," she thought out loud. 

"Inuyasha, we'll keep on going," she said to him politely. 

"That's all in order then, " Miroku concluded, rubbing his arm. 

"Miroku-sama, you'll still go to see Mushin-sama," she informed him. "We'll meet you there in a few days, after we've finished in the next town." 

Mushin-sama's temple was quite a long walk away from where they were currently. About to voice these opinions, Kagome interrupted. 

"Sango-chan and Kirara will take you." 

* 

The ride there had been relatively silent, save for Miroku giving Kirara a few key directions. Sango hoped that he couldn't see how uneasy she was, though she was radiating nervousness in all directions. Maybe his mood would improve slightly if she didn't push him. 

Kirara landed smoothly and stooped to let her human passengers off of her back. Sango whispered a quiet thank you and patted her on the head before turning to follow Miroku up the front steps of Mushin's temple. 

"Mushin-sama!" Miroku called out. "Where are you?" He realized it would be no use calling for him. Chances are, he would be drunk and out for the day. Just as anticipated, the old monk was laying on his side in the shade on the front porch, empty sake jug laying next to him. 

Sango kneeled down tentatively beside the old man and shook his shoulders. "Mushin-sama?" she asked. His eyes cracked open and he gave her half lidded smile. "Hello," he croaked. "Umm, hello," echoed Sango. "Do you...remember me?" 

"Ah, thank Buddha. He has presented me with a beautiful temple girl," Mushin drawled, his eyes unfocused. "Tell me, what may the name of this precious gift be?" 

"My name is Sango," she said flatly. "Ah," Mushin murmured, rolling onto his back in contentment. "A beautiful name. Are you sure you aren't a celestial maiden?" 

"No," Sango answered dryly. 

Miroku stepped forward and prodded Mushin with his foot. "Get up, you old monk. It's barely midday and you're already drunk." 

Mushin opened his eyes wider and focused on Miroku. "Is that you Miroku? So we meet again!" 

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What brings you here again? Where are your other companions?" 

"At another village, they should be arriving in a few days time. It's just me and Sango this time," he answered. 

Mushin turned back to Sango and did a double-take. "Oh. I remember you know!" he laughed heartily. "How could I forget such a pretty face!" 

Sango flushed in embarrassment. "Mushin-sama, Houshi-sama is having trouble with his Kazaana again," she quickly informed him. At these words, his attention turned back to Miroku. 

With some difficulty, the old man got to his feet. "Let me see," he instructed. Miroku held out his hand for inspection, while Sango looked on apprehensively. For a moment, she could've sworn she saw the old monk's expression turn grave, but when he looked back up to Miroku, his countenance was collected. 

"Your arm hurt as well?" Miroku nodded. "Well, what do you think?" 

"Time has passed, as it always has," Mushin explained. "And the hole has extended. It's growing." 

Dread flitted across Miroku's features before his face settled back into his composed visage. "Is there nothing you can do just for the soreness?" he queried. 

"I can give you some medicine," Mushin answered. "It will help with the pain, I believe. But it will put you out for quite awhile. During that time I'll take a closer look at the changes." 

Miroku regarded Sango for the first time that day. "I'll go take the medication now. If you want, you can wander through the temple." She nodded quietly, looking down at his feet. He made to follow Mushin into the building, but unknown to her, his gaze lingered a little longer on her profile than necessary. 

* 

Sango stepped lightly on the flat boulders that surrounded the waterfall behind Mushin's temple. 'It's so beautiful, and peaceful here," she thought, sitting down on a patch of grass shaded by a large tree. 'I would have liked to grow up in a place like this.' She tugged at the bottom of her yukata and dangled her feet loosely through the rippling water. 

Memories of the taijiya village bubbled to the surface of her mind, and she felt her heart ache. At least she had had her family growing up, if even for a short time. She was now thankful for the time she got to have with them, and even though they were gone, she did not regret knowing them. "I wonder if Houshi-sama ever got lonely," Sango thought out loud. She lay back on the grass, trailing a lone finger through the water, causing a few fish to scatter. "After all, it was only him and Mushin-sama here." 

"He did get lonely," said a deep voice with a chuckle. Startled, Sango sat up from her lounging position and looked up as Mushin settled himself beside her. 

"Miroku was a very curious boy. He always wanted knowledge, experience, those kinds of things. Of course, he couldn't fulfil these aspirations if stayed here and studied at the monastery," recalled Mushin. He turned his chin upwards, remembering life with a young Miroku. 

"He always questioned the ways of the Buddha. He studied it very intensely, because he wanted to fully comprehend what he was devoting his life to, and what his father and grandfather before him had believed. Very obedient boy, even though I myself had to chase him around this very pond when he refused to go under the waterfall to meditate because it was too cold." 

Sango giggled lightly at the thought. 

"He looked up to his father very much, following him around the grounds, asking questions about himself, his mother, life, every topic you could think of. I still remember the day young Miroku asked his father about why men desired women." 

Sango turned and rested on her stomach, propping her cheek on her elbows, and leaned in attentively to Mushin's story. 

"He said that each woman is a different story. In that story, they have many chapters and writings about their lives, their secrets, dreams, and little things about their daily lives. And every day, they fill the pages of their story with new things they have learned, new experiences they have had, and seemingly insignificant events they have gone through. As you meet women, they may choose to allow you to read their story, or they may shut their book tight. They may allow you to write a chapter in their story, or they may write it themselves." 

The story was a bit odd, but Sango was sure that a man like Miroku's father would have some sort of meaning to this story, and she hoped it wasn't centered on lechery. 

"To find the right woman, she must only share her story with you once she trusts you enough. She must want to read every page of your story in return. You must read everything, the mundane bits, the meaningful parts, and depressing pages, and understand. And when you both know each other fully, things like how the raindrops on the morning grass make her think of the time she first saw a rainbow, she must agree to close that book of hers forever, and begin to write a new one with you." 

Sango's eyes closed as she thought about how much she would have liked to meet Miroku's father. She supposed he had composed that little story after he had met Miroku's mother. Mushin also had his eyes shut in reminiscence. 

"Of course, Miroku was devastated when he died. But he tried not to grieve for too long. He loved his father, and I remember how he sat by his grave and prayed every morning after he awoke and every night before he slept. He promised his father that he would get rid of the curse, and that he would write a story to make him proud. He said that because his father had taught him how precious women were, he would look for one that suited him, and love her with all he could, but he wouldn't ask her to begin a new story with him, until he had closed his own, and that was only after the curse was lifted." 

At these words, Mushin's voice began to grow hoarse. He stared off into the distance, the silence filled with the sounds of falling water and the songs of restless birds. Sango lifted herself off of her front and sat back on her heels. "Mushin-sama," she said quietly. "What did you make of Houshi-sama's Kazaana?" 

Mushin turned to look at her. "Sango, I want you to do something for me first." She looked confused, but she nodded and listened for instructions. 

"I want you to look away from me, close your eyes if you want, and think of Miroku." 

Sango looked at him blankly. "Think of Houshi-sama?" she asked. 

"I'm not going to tell you what about him to think of. Just think of him." 

"Okay," said Sango hesitantly, and shifted into a comfortable position, putting her feet into the water again. She thought of Miroku, how when he had first spoken to her, he had made her sad feelings disappear, if just for a moment. When he would go off with other girls and she got angry and frustrated, he would always have a way with words that would make her forgive him in an instant. How he would do such nice things for her, insignificant things, like sit with her when she was feeling sad, or make silly jokes to make her laugh. It seemed like, he did things for her all the time, and never for himself. But, even though it seemed that way, she was never too sure of his true feelings. Finally, her thoughts found themselves thinking back to last night, when she had broken his trust in her. 

She shook her head quickly, and held a hand up to her temple shakily. She looked questioningly at Mushin. 

"I don't know if I should tell you what I know, Sango," said Mushin gravely. 

"And why is that?" argued Sango. 

"Your feelings for him are too great," he said simply. 

"What do you mean?" she asked weakly. 

"Though I seem like a drunken fool most of the time, I am still a monk. And I have undergone the studies necessary to become one. I could feel it when you thought of him. I could see your aura." 

Sango's eyes looked anywhere but at Miroku's foster father. "Sango," he said gently. "Do you love him?" 

Sango froze instantly. She chewed on her lower lip vigorously. "Yes," she said in barely a whisper. "Didn't quite catch that, Sango," said Mushin playfully. 

"I-I do," Sango confirmed for him, her hands shaking. 

"It's quite ironic that you tell me this here," Mushin stated. 

"Why is that?" Sango inquired, still warm from her recent confession. 

"Well, it is here that Miroku himself once admitted how scared he was of love. Real love, as he called it." 

Sango displayed to him a confused expression. 

"After asking so many questions about it, when he had actually left here to travel alone, he came back a few times, and there were so many women he met in the villages, he didn't know how to be sure that he loved a woman, even after remembering his father's story." 

"So what did you tell him?" asked Sango curiously. 

"Of course, I told him to have fun, and learn while he travelled. But I also told him he would know when she came along, because she would different from all the others. He was still defiant about conquering the curse first, that was his primary goal. He was fearful that he would meet the girl whilst still on this quest. I told him that if he did, to keep her close, so that he didn't lose her. But he argued with me, because he didn't want to endanger the life of one he loved." 

Mushin shifted positions on the ground slightly, and flicked a fly off of his shoulder. "But he said he was conflicted, because what would he do if he loved the girl so much he didn't want to let her go?" 

Sango was feeling quite guilty of her treatment of Miroku. He had lived with such a burden on his shoulders, a burden that she didn't understand as well as he did, but he brushed aside any inconsiderate comments on her part. But he had become angry with her because she had endangered herself. Could this really be it? Did he want to keep her close, but became upset with her because he could've killed her? Did he want to leave for their safety, but stayed to be with her? 

"Are you finding fault in yourself now, Sango?" Mushin asked lightly. "Don't. There is not enough time to waste in feelings of self-loathing." 

Sango's shoulders stiffened. "Not enough time? Why?" she voiced shakily. 

"What I mean is," Mushin said with a sigh. "There isn't enough time." 

Sango grabbed the front of his robes with trembling fingers. "You're joking right? Like you always do?" she asked desperately. 

"I didn't say it to him today when he arrived," Mushin reasoned. " Because I knew his time was running short. His grandfather had had the most time, already having lived significantly before being cursed. Miroku's father had lived to see his son. But I'm afraid that Miroku...doesn't have that chance." 

Sango still clung to Mushin's robes tightly. "How much time?" she whispered. 

"Any day. Maybe even tomorrow," he answered softly. 

Mushin patted her on the small of her back comfortingly as her shoulders quaked with sobs yet again. Tears for him, once again. 

"H-he would be the one to keep me happy when I was upset, take care of me when I was injured. Dammit, he would even give me his staff, and his kesa, when it wasn't necessary!" Sango berated herself angrily. "Mushin-sama, why, why does he do that!" 

"He gives you his kesa?" the monk asked, slightly surprised. Sango nodded bitterly. 

Mushin hugged her shoulders tighter as he spoke. "The kesa is a symbol of the universe, and it is meant to remind a monk about his connection with the universe when he wears it." 

Sango wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her yukata. "So why is he so stupid to give it to me if it's a reminder of his monk origins?" 

The sun had begun to set, casting a orange glow across the pair. 

Mushin held her away from him, and looked at her flushed, tearstained face. 

"Maybe because it reminds him that you're his universe." 

* 

The sky was a mixed palate of purple, and blue as Sango stood out on the porch overlooking the front of the temple. She leaned her arms on the railing, feeling overwhelming sadness for the doomed future of herself and Miroku. 

As she sat down on the steps in front of the temple, she stared out at the gaping crater in the earth that was Miroku's father's burial site. She walked out to it, and sat down on the edge, letting her legs dangle. 

It wasn't long before she heard the distinct sliding of a temple door and heard footsteps behind her. 

"May I sit here?" Miroku asked her politely. 

"No one is stopping you," Sango replied, not looking at him. 

He settled himself next to her, his eyes transfixing themselves on the small stone monument in the center of the crater. 

"This is going to be me one day," Miroku stated. Perhaps it had meant to be a joke, but the way his voice was tinged with bitterness, it was anything but. 

"Don't say things like that, Houshi-sama," Sango returned morosely. 

The familiar breach of silence built in the air once again. 

"I feel indebted to apologize to you for my earlier behaviour, Sango," Miroku began respectfully. 

"You had every right and reason to be upset with me, Houshi-sama," Sango responded. Any resentful feelings towards Miroku had now disappeared after her heart-to-heart with Mushin. 

"I was upset, Sango, but I didn't handle it the way I should have," Miroku explained. "I did myself a great wrongdoing by taking out my frustrations on you." 

Sango leaned into him, closing her eyes and resting her head on the front of his shoulder. 

Surprised at this bold move, he instinctively brought his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. 

The moon rose high in the sky and painted the temple grounds with an pale glow. 

"Houshi-sama," Sango murmured. "Let's not worry about past wrong doings. I just want to be with you, right here, right now. I want to remember this." 

He looked down at her, cradled in his arms, the glow of the moon making deep shadows across her delicate face. Remnants of tears still sparkled in the corners of her eyes. 

"I do too," he answered, breath warm on her cheek. 

___________________________________* 

Not a lot of Miroku in this chapter, although there was a lot of talk about him, ne? Well, this chapter officially took most of the last week to write, and it required a lot of thinking on my part. I know you are probably irked that there was no real M/S action going on, but I hope the emotional touch I tried to put into it was worth it. Please tell me how you feel about this one. 

There are roughly two more parts left to this story, the last chapter and the epilogue. I had lots of motivation to write this, so I think I should properly thank the reviewers. **LiL psYchO, sailorpsychosis, Lyra Pelgina, isasimstories, SM together, Sang0-chan, animefreak808, Sylver-Ajah, Haeli J, BellaMuerte, tessie-fanfic, Stripe, Angela, asdf, LishaVilla** and **Aamalie!** Thank you for all the support! 

Not that it really matters, but it was my birthday on the 2nd. =D 

_Void: Knowing You revised and uploaded April 4th 2004_


	4. Hourglass

_Disclaimer: _I don't own Inuyasha and all other kinds of Inuyasha-related stuff. Don't sue. 

**Void **

**Four: Hourglass**

It seemed like they had stayed together in that simple position for hours, though the moon was still hanging pale, high in the sky, and Kirara had long since been a victim of a deep slumber. 

A comfortable, yet disparaging silence had surrounded them, and they felt a mutual understanding to appreciate this simple moment, and not have it marred by unsure words and awkward conversation. 

He found himself overcome with a tired, heavy feeling, and unconsciously leaned backward, bringing Sango with him, until his back came in contact with the thick grass, and Sango's upper body was splayed across his. 

Surprisingly, Sango shifted to settle more comfortably against him, her hand loosely fingering the knot of his kesa. Her eyebrows were knit together in slight contemplation. 

"Houshi-sama," her quiet voice prompted him. "When Naraku is destroyed, our quest is over, and your curse is lifted, what would you like to do?" 

She kept her head resting on his chest, lightly rising and falling with his breaths. 

Miroku craned his neck to observe her, but only saw the top of her head, as her face was obscured from view. 

He dropped his head back down and turned it sideways in contemplation, staring up at the swirling canopy of stars above them. "I wouldn't want to forget about everyone," he began, then paused shortly before continuing. " I've been travelling alone for a long time, as you know, Sango, and somehow, travelling in a group..." 

She rose onto her forearms briefly and observed his thoughtful appearance, trying to imagine never seeing him again, never being this close to him again. 

Of course that dreaded secret she carried had to find a way to weigh on her mind. 

"I've managed to experience quite a few things I would have never imagined. In addition, I think I wouldn't have lived this long without...everyone's support." 

Both of their thoughts returned to the gaping hole in the earth a few feet away. "It almost makes me question the acceptance of my impending death," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "It took so long to learn to understand that this is the path fate has chosen for me." 

It was quiet again as the sounds of night filled the air. 

"Now I'm afraid of dying. I want to stay with you. I don't want to leave you, or anyone, behind..." 

Sango listened with widening eyes. She sat up fully, his hand hanging loosely around her waist. 

"Houshi-sama," she breathed. "What are you talking about?" 

His eyes seemed to fall out of a trance, and he focused on her. "Nothing, Sango. Just the nightly musings of a monk." 

"Then answer my question, please." 

"What question?" he asked in clearly feigned confusion. 

"What would you like to do, when this is all over," she repeated slowly. 

"You mean, if I truly had a future?" 

"Yes." 

His unsure response surprised her. 

"I don't know." 

Sango cocked her head to the side in slight confusion. "Houshi-sama, I always knew you as one who preferred to be prepared. I would have thought you'd have your whole life planned out." 

He looked away bitterly. "Why would I plan out my life when I knew it would end so shortly after it has begun?" 

Sango opened her mouth hesitantly, but he continued. "I grew up, only knowing that I would soon die. It became my mission to kill Naraku and do away with this curse, and with that, my family line, and those that came before me could finally rest in peace. And after all these years, I haven't." 

"Houshi-sama-" 

"There was, and still is, a very slim chance that I will succeed." 

She attempted to rebuttal. "No, there isn't-" 

"I never thought about what my life would be if I did get rid of this curse." 

Why wouldn't he just let her speak? 

"Houshi-sama, if we all-" 

"Until I met you." 

Her composure faltered for a brief moment, and she clutched a shaking fist to her chest. "Surely you did, I mean, with Inuyasha and Kagome-chan, all together we can-" 

"You know what I'm talking about, Sango. Inuyasha, Kagome-sama, Kirara, Shippou, I love them like true family. But meeting you, just made our quest even more urgent. " 

"Why," Sango whispered, her voice wavering. _Do I really want to know?_

"Sango, I'm going to regret this later, I know it." 

She stiffened, and fisted her fingers into the grass in frustration. '_Please don't say it, Miroku. Don't say it_,' she begged him frantically in her thoughts. 

"You mean so much to me. More than any other woman I have ever known. It's something I've been holding back for so long, Sango." 

The words she had been desiring to hear for so long, she was about to hear. The feelings she had harboured for longer than she could remember, was it possible that they were actually being reciprocated? 

She didn't want to know. She didn't want to hear it. If he said them, right then and there, it would only confirm her worst fears and set Naraku's plot in stone. 

"I love you." 

How did her heart manage to fill yet burst all in one moment? 

How could something that brought her so much happiness, also bring dread and despair? 

She bit back the tears forming in her eyes. She could not tell if they were of joy or sadness. 

"And I want this curse to be gone, so badly. Because I want to offer you something, something other than my death. I want to give you a whole new life, and another chance." 

She did not feel the ground move beneath her. 

"You have made me so happy, Houshi-sama," she heard her own words ring in her ear. Was it her imagination? Was that stammering, shaking voice really hears? 

"I feel the same way, about you. I have for so long now." 

Swiftly, he manoeuvred his arms around her and crushed her trembling form to him. "Sango," he breathed, his voice muffled by her hair. "You know what this means, don't you?" 

He took her silence as a negative. 

"It's more important now, that we stay strong, and hold back from each other. Right now, what's most important is that we defeat Naraku, and then...we can start anew from there." 

Miroku heard no response again, and simply held her. Maybe, as he did right now, she felt overwhelmed. So much so that it couldn't be voiced. 

Her grip on the front of his robes tightened and he could faintly feel her shoulders quaking under his hands. 

"No." It was muffled, but audible. 

"Sango," he whispered. 

"No." It was louder this time, defiant and disbelieving. 

He held her slightly above him, her arms still supporting her upper body. 

"Are you refusing me?" 

She shook her head quickly. When she spoke, her bottom lip quivered, and her voice was still uneven. 

"No, Houshi-sama." 

She trailed delicate fingers down the side of his face, almost as if she were afraid to touch him, afraid he wasn't really there. 

Afraid that she would never be able to touch him again. 

"I want to have all the time in the world to be with you." 

"That we can, Sango." 

"No. Time is fleeting. And it's slipping away." 

He loosened his hold on her and she descended closer to him. Her tongue slid from her mouth and traced over her lips, moistening them. It was then he truly noticed their proximity. 

And he kissed her. There was hardly any distance between them, really. It was a line easily crossed. 

When he pulled back, her eyes remained closed, her heart beat had quickened, and short breaths left her mouth, as she took in more air to keep herself from dizzying. The sight made him warmly satisfied. 

No words could leave their slightly parted mouths. 

There was so much she wanted to tell him, to show him. Up until a few days ago she had fantasized about a future that was now utterly unattainable. 

She hated time. It had cruelly dictated her life for too long. 

How important was time to them, their group? 

They needed to collect more Shikon shards before Naraku did. They couldn't allow him any advantages against them. They needed to hurry and not delay. It was simply a race between the two sides. 

Then, if they managed that, the time would come the shards would needed to be combined into the Shikon no Tama. Kohaku's borrowed life would disintegrate, and he would be laid to rest. Kagome would have to return to her to her place in the future. Inuyasha would have to make his final choice. 

There was only a matter of time before the curse would fulfil it's ultimate purpose and consume Miroku. He had so little time to live, unless she gave him the rest of her life. 

She could give him a life without her. Her life would be his. 

In ways he could not fathom. 

The sands of time continued to fall, burying Kohaku, straining Inuyasha and Kagome's relationship, slowly draining her, and gradually causing Miroku to vanish before their very eyes. 

If only, she could forget the hourglass, just for one night. 

"Sango, is it all right if we move from here?" Miroku's quiet voice shattering the silence. She shivered at the sensation his breath made on her skin. 

"Somehow, I find that being with you while sitting in my father's resting place somewhat uncomfortable for me." 

She slipped clumsily out of his grasp and they both stood. He cast one long look over the stone monument in the center of the crater and mumbled a quiet prayer before leading Sango into the temple. 

"Shall I light some candles for you?" Miroku asked nonchalantly as he squinted in the dim light, feeling for Kagome's package of matches. 

Sango, who had been lingering in the door frame, looked up at the sound of his voice. Acknowledging his question, she shook her head slightly with a small smile and slid the screen door back as far as it could, immersing the room in the pale light. 

"That's fine with you then?" he inquired, before making to head out the open door. 

"Wait," Sango cut in, tugging on his sleeve. "Where are you going?" 

She looked up at him with large, questioning brown eyes that he thought were simply adorable. 

"To another room, of course. I want you to have a nice rest before we get ready to leave tomorrow." 

Really, all he wanted to do was have an ice cold bath. Alone. 

She did not relinquish the grasp on his sleeve. "Houshi-sama, I want you to stay with me tonight." 

He blinked. "Sango, though it may be difficult for you to believe, I really had to hold myself back from you before, and I'm starting to understand how hard this is going to be hard on the both of us." 

If possible, she only pressed closer to him, distorting his thought patterns. 

"It doesn't have to be, Houshi-sama. Please, I want to be yours." 

Miroku pursed his lips, forming a tight line. This behaviour, so unlike Sango. Here she was, asking him, no, pleading with him to make her his. 

For a short while his face was a frown in concentration, while Sango looked on anxiously awaiting his next words. 

Then he understood. 

This had all started the night they had been attacked, when Sango had received that remarkably similar wound that reopened the scar on her back. 

He knew nothing about it. 

"Sango," he said urgently, crossing the distance between them in a few strides. His hands flew to her shoulders. "Why are you acting this way all of a sudden?" 

Her teeth scraped across her lower lip. "What do you mean, this way? Can't you see Houshi-sama? I love you." 

"If you love me Sango, you can wait, we both can. Trust me, this is hard for me as well." 

Her expression was full of fear and sadness, and somehow he doubted her intentions were based solely on her desire for him. 

"What is it that's driving you Sango? It's making you think irrationally, what is it?" He leaned closer to her and briefly pressed his lips to the apple of her cheek. 

"Tell me what happened with Kohaku." 

Her eyes only widened in sudden shock. "You know exactly what the story is regarding Kohaku," she said in a rush, preparing to erect a barrier of defence. 

"A few days ago, when you were injured. I know something happened," Miroku replied in a low voice. " 

Don't lie to me Sango," he whispered, making sure his breath caressed the sensitive skin of her ear and neck. 

He trailed gentle fingers up and down her sides repeatedly, causing her to shiver involuntarily. 

His eyes became half-lidded as he laid another gentle kiss on the angle of her jaw. Her hands automatically came up to grasp his back but he intercepted, clasping their hands and entwining her fingers. 

He pressed his body against hers, pushing her backwards until she was flat against the wall, his arms securing hers above her, pinning her wrists down, and leaving her unprotected and vulnerable to him. 

"Is this what you truly desire right now, Sango?" he questioned her. 

The words came out as heated exhalations of air against her skin. 

Her breathing quickened, and he could almost feel the strong beating of her heart beneath the cotton fabric of her covering. 

Sango could only watch as Miroku assaulted her exposed neck with kisses, trailing them down her throat, making her tense and relax as he willed. Her hands longed to touch him as well, to feel him, and her wrists strained to be released from his firm grip. But no, he was being cruel to her, preventing her from what she wanted- no, needed right now. 

Was this punishment? 

"Tell me." 

It was a simple enough request. 

"I can't tell you, Houshi-sama-" Sango gasped, struggling just to complete the sentence. She sharply inhaled and threw her head back as Miroku touched her, inhibiting waves of exhilaration that she had never experienced before. 

As soon as they had washed over her, they were gone. His hands abruptly released her, and he drew back a safe distance. 

Sango, still feeling his lingering touch, felt her weak knees crumple beneath her, and she leaned her back against the wall, still panting heavily. 

"What you're experiencing isn't love, Sango, if you feel that you cannot share that secret with me," Miroku said, staring up at the painted sky. He closed his eyes. "I only want to help you shoulder your burden." 

Sango fell heavily onto her knees and brought her palms over her heart, feeling cold and incomplete without his touch. 

"What happened to you then, it's affecting you in such an unusual way. I put many hours into meditation and just trying to work out what might have happened, seeing that you were so distressed about it. However, even with all that, I still don't know. I have absolutely no idea." 

"I'm sorry, Houshi-sama," she apologized in a small voice. 

"The truth is," she looked down at the floor, almost in shame. "When Kohaku attacked me again, I was so scared. If it was that easy for Naraku to almost kill me, using my own brother, it made me feel so weak, so powerless." 

Well, a half-truth is still the truth nonetheless. 

"I'm scared he'll kill us. I'm scared you'll die. I'm just scared, Houshi-sama." 

She rose and stumbled clumsily to his stoic form, that was still studying the night sky, and threw heavy arms around him, clutching meekly at his robes. 

"We are all scared at one time, Sango. We are all haunted by our own inner demons, in whatever form they may take." 

Her own yukata was loosely falling over one shoulder, and she felt the warmth of his palms as they travelled the length of her back and pulled slightly on the fabric. 

"We are together now, and I want nothing more than to protect you, and be your happiness," he confided, trying to impress the memory of her shadowed face in his mind permanently. 

He didn't have to try that hard. 

* 

It seemed so natural, for him to walk, breath heavy and laboured from kissing Sango, the small distance from the doorway to the futon lying invitingly in the center of the room. 

"Is this really what you want, Sango? Because I'm too far gone, too intoxicated by you. And if we start now, I don't know if I can stop," Miroku whispered urgently. "You've become everything to me." 

A deep blush coloured her cheeks, still as much as a contrast on her skin as it was in the sunshine, as it was now, in the night with only the moonlight to accentuate her beautiful face. 

And they were lying down again, a cool breeze washing over them through the open door, the grass lightly rustling, and the night at peace. 

"My world." 

Without a word, her nervous, yet determined hands pulled him down to her, lips moistened in anticipation. 

"My Sango." 

His mind swimming with thoughts, visions, dreams, and his one love, he could vaguely hear nothing else other than the light din he and Sango were making. 

However, he could still hear her breathless voice above it all. 

"I want to stay with you." 

A thick cotton yukata clumped to the floor in folds. 

"I don't want you to forget me." 

A heavy, ink black robe collided with the wall as it was cast aside. 

"I want to give you everything I have." 

Her voice, soft and passionate in his ear. 

"And I love you, Miroku." 

__________________________* 

_Void: Hourglass - April 21st, 2004_

Must apologize for the lateness of this update. Usually if I "package" my fics I prefer to update them at the same time. So I did. This chapter was written over a couple of weeks, different parts inserted at all different times, and I feel that it was kind of choppy, if you know what I mean. Anyway, sorry for the delay, I'm not really satisfied with this chapter, probably will make edits later. It also wasn't as long as the others. Sorry for that, too. I just don't think I put enough emphasis on the emotional aspect of this chapter, which was something I really wanted to do. 

If you're not here, them I apologize. I only included the chapter three reviewers this time. 

**Demon Exterminator Barbie** - Ah, more flattery! Thank you! Will I see a longer review? =) 

**The-Great-Monk-Grl** - Well, I gotta say that all the UPDATE!!'s certainly helped. 

**Personification of Fluff** - Taking time off school-related activities to review? Now that's nice of you. Hopefully you still got some good study time in there. Thanks for your feedback. 

**Skye Silvereye** - It's not that good, really. Why are you so nice for? =) 

**isasimstories** - Thank you! I'm really glad people like this story. 

**DarkWolfBlade** - Ack, don't flatter me like that. There's way better authors than me. Like you! 

**Pline** - Gosh, I still am in disbelief that my crappy writing can make people cry. 

**sailorpsychosis** - Ah, we have the same birthday! Happy uh, late birthday to you too! =D 

**BellaMuerte** - Well, after a long time, the next chapter is HERE! 

**Lyra Pelgina** - Aww, I've never had my fic called pretty before. 

**LiL psYchO** - Hmm, people still can't tell? And I thought this was so predicatable. 

**Aamalie** - I'm happy that you reviewed even though you were dead tired. It's a hard thing to do. 

**Silver-Ajah** - Well, someone has to die. But I'm not saying who. It's a 50/50 chance. I'm sad too. I don't want to do it. But I must. Sigh. 

**animefreak808** - Glad you liked the explaining =) I'd like to actually meet the evil monkeys. 

**tessie-fanfic** - Thank you for thanking me for thanking you! And thank you for reviewing! 

**Stripe** - Yes, the ending is very soon. Next chapter. I guarantee it. 

Once again, I'd like to thank all reviewers for their feedback and support. You make writing this story truly rewarding. 


	5. Goodbye

_Disclaimer: _I do not own Inuyasha, related characters, trademarks, etc.

**Void **

**Five: Goodbye**

Kirara mewled contentedly in her large form and looked back at her mistress, who leaned upon her side. The two had been lounging together since early that morning, when Sango had come out from the temple to see what her cat-demon was up to. 

Her golden eyes had watched, slightly amused, as her mistress emerged from the temple door, which was still partly open. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were half lidded as she stumbled quite clumsily down the steps. The grass tickled her bare feet as she strolled aimlessly around the grounds, sometimes adding a small twirl in her step. "Kirara!" she called in a singsong voice. "Where are you?" 

Upon spotting her companion lying lazily on her side, Sango smiled and ran through the grass towards her, looking much like the little girl Kirara fondly reminisced about. 

"I'm sorry I left you out here all alone, Kirara. You could have come inside if you wanted," Sango apologized, as Kirara yawned and flexed her claws. 

"Anyway, I think we should have a serious talk, you know, a girl talk," she said with a light sigh. "It's been a long time since we've really talked. Well, more like me talking to you." 

Sango leaned onto Kirara and closed her eyes briefly. "We've been together for as long as I remember. Ever since I was just a little girl, right? Perhaps you can, but I can't recall any time you haven't been here with me. And it used to be just the two of us, until that incident occurred, and our lives changed. Then, we met our friends, and we know we can trust them, because they chose to stay with us, even though I betrayed them. I love them like family, though I thought I'd never come to care for others as deeply as I did my father, brother and friends from the village. You love them too, right Kirara?" 

She felt Kirara's back slightly shift as the cat-demon nodded. 

"Then you would be happy to continue travelling with them, right?" 

Kirara's already large eyes grew, if possible, a little wider. 

Sango sighed, and she twirled her fingers anxiously. "I mean, without me." 

Her companion flinched in discontent. 

"I'm not going to go off alone Kirara. I'm going to..." 

_Tell her. You're going to go off and sacrifice yourself._

"I'm going somewhere." 

She covered her face with her hands, and when she removed them, the reddish stain of tears was more evident then ever before, though she did not cry now. 

"I'm going to die." 

She looped her arms around her companion's neck and embraced her tightly. "You may not see it now, Kirara, but this will help everyone. I want to help those I love." 

She said it with strength and acceptance. 

* * *

"What's troubling you, Sango?" Miroku asked as they sat together next to the pond, much as she did with Mushin the previous day. "I hope it isn't..." 

"No, of course not," Sango said, immediately blushing, as Miroku exhaled in relief. 

"What is it then?" he pursued, clasping her hand. She looked up at the clear sky and smiled as the breeze shifted her bangs. "I love you," she stated, still looking up. 

"I love you too, Sango." 

_That's the problem._

"How much do you love me?" Sango continued, still examining the clouds. 

Miroku followed her gaze to the sky, thinking. "How much do you think I love you?" 

"Enough to tell me how much _you_ love me." 

"Fair enough," Miroku replied, defeated. He cupped her chin and turned her face towards him. 

"Sango. I love you in ways I cannot express. Any other way I can, I have tried, trust me. Humans are fallible, we are imperfect, we have weaknesses. But despite this knowledge, I believe that what we have together, how I feel when I'm with you, when I think of you, I know that it's perfect. And it may seem contrived when I say this, but when I met you, you did not tease and flirt with me, you challenged me. I did not seek to conquer you, but to earn you. And I can honestly say that my life changed, and my priorities rearranged themselves. What were my goals before you? First and foremost, avenge my family line. What would I do after that? I didn't know. Now, I just want to live for you. Because I love you." 

"I know," Sango said quietly. 

"I know you know. And I will tell you again and again as long as you ask." 

A small silence built as Sango brought her knees closer to her chest. It was shattered as her voice, anxious and fearful, cut through the air. 

"Would you die for me?" 

Though he looked somewhat taken aback by the sudden question, he tried as hard as he willed not to look at his hand. He stared into his covered palm for a brief moment before quickly averting his gaze. 

"Without question." 

"However, should that ever happen, wouldn't I be burdened with the guilt of knowing I caused you to die?" 

"Perhaps that is so. But consider that it is because of this love, our love, that I would want you to live. I value you above other things, even my own life. Initially, it is natural to feel guilt. It can only be followed by acceptance." 

Another thick silence followed, before Miroku asked Sango a question of his own. 

"May I inquire as to why you would ask this?" 

Her blank countenance faltered only slightly. 

"We've fought many times, and there is a lot more fighting to come. I know that I tend to be pessimistic, and I rely on you to drag me out of it. There are times I've been without direction, and again I rely on you to find me. All this thought of death, it frightened me, even as a taijiya, a title associated with being a honourable warrior. I could die any moment, and now that I've grown so close to everyone, grown to love you, the thought only frightens me more. I don't know if I could accept any of your deaths, or if you could accept mine." 

Miroku pulled her closer to him, and wrapped his arms around her stiff shoulders, which relaxed as he held her. 

"We shouldn't dwell on these thoughts now, Sango, it can only alter perception and affect our focus. We'll deal with issues like those, if we ever come to it. If it should happen. So smile for me." 

He felt her nod against his chest, and her hands gripped him so hard it hurt. 

A few moments later, she pulled herself away from him, breathing deep, shaky breaths. 

"Miroku, what would you give to be rid of the curse?" 

She held his wretched hand to her chest, brought it up and brushed it against her cheek, holding it there. 

He tugged her back against him again. "The kazaana is the barrier in my life that has prevented me from doing so much. If there was another way besides defeating Naraku, I wish I knew of it." 

He was inviting her to tell him. He blatantly spoke those words as an offering for her to divulge her knowledge of this particular subject. The expected paranoia kicked in. Had he figured it out? 

Should she tell him? Would she release the dam of emotion that had been building in her body, that had given her more grief for the past few days that nearly rivalled the bitter sadness the loss of her family had given her over the past year? 

If she knew him, he would refuse her, and what she could do for him. He would automatically dismiss her, then seclude and isolate himself, in an attempt to make her question whether he even deserved to be saved. He should know better. 

She said nothing. 

* * *

The sun hovered lazily in the sky as the afternoon settled in. Miroku sat atop the steps watching Sango, a little ways down, as she folded her carrying cloth neatly over the small bundle of fabric and armor that was her taijiya uniform. 

"Inuyasha, Kagome-sama, and Shippou should be coming around any time now. They did say that they wanted to get to another town by nightfall," Miroku spoke up quietly, breaking the silence. 

Sango looked up from the neat knot she had made and nodded. 

He couldn't help but notice Sango's strange behaviour once again. His words and countenance betrayed nothing, he hoped, but inside his mind was desperately trying to decipher hers. She had confided to him more than enough, it was as if she wanted to tell him whatever it was that was on her mind, but held back at the last moment. He directly confronted her, but still had learned nothing. They had spoken about his future, their future, death, love, his curse, seemingly everything, and it frustrated him to be left in the dark. 

He would have to do something about this, once again. 

"Sango," he began moving down a few steps to sit closer to her. "You know what I'm going to ask you about. It seems like no matter what I do to try and get you tell me, you refuse." 

Instantly, she began to stiffen at his words, and visibly flinched as he moved to take her hands in his. 

"I also notice it's something that you've been holding back. Something that's large enough to weigh on your conscience the way it does. Please, Sango, remember what I told you. I want to share all your burdens, and pain, I love you that much." 

She looked down at their intertwined fingers, her face hidden from view. He stared at the top of her head desperately as he waited impatiently for her response. 

Slowly, she raised her head and her eyes, shining with determination, met his. 

"Miroku, the day we were attacked. Kohaku was there, and you were injured-" her voice began to shake. "And she showed me, Kanna - I saw you. I thought you were going to die. Kohaku, he- he did it again. It was just the same as the last time. I heard Naraku order him - that bastard - he ordered Kohaku to do it again." 

By this time, the volume of her words had dissolved into whispers, and blinked back tears streamed from the edges of her eyes. 

Miroku moved his hands to her shoulders and steadied their trembling. "And it hurt just like last time," she continued, her gaze unwavering. "Both inside and out. And I thought he would just kill me right then and there, with Kohaku. It wasn't the way I envisioned the end, the end of our legacy as taijiya, however it seemed set. It wasn't what he wanted though. It was for you. Teach you a lesson." 

Her sentences had become disjointed fragments, and he struggled to make sense of them. 

"Sango," he interrupted, gently shaking her from her frantic state. "Slow down. I'm only here to listen." 

"Miroku," she whispered, her lips now forming a bitter smile. "I can save you." 

He continued to stare at her. "Sango, I don't understand." 

"I can save you." 

"How?" Miroku asked. "Save me from what?" 

Suddenly, a loud and excited voice broke through their focus, and both their heads whipped around to witness the arrival of their companions. Sango instantly shrank back from Miroku. 

"Sango-chan, Miroku-sama! How have you been?" Kagome asked enthusiastically, running up the steps to greet them. "Sango-chan?" 

Kagome bent closer to inspect Sango's face. "Have you been crying?" she asked worriedly. 

"No, I haven't, Kagome-chan," Sango countered quickly. "I just got something in my eye, and Houshi-sama was trying to get it." 

The miko raised an eyebrow. "Well, we got some more leads from the towns we were able to get to yesterday. Inuyasha wanted to just leave you guys here for good!" she added with a light giggle. "So I think we're going to be leaving soon. Right now if I'm not mistaken." 

Sango and Miroku nodded. Sure enough, the half-demon himself appeared at the bottom of the steps, screaming something about lazy humans lounging around temples, resting while he travelled around with a stupid kitsune and did all the dirty work. 

He finished stomping up the steps, oblivious to the stares he generated from his friends. "We're going now," he said shortly before turning around and heading down the way he came. Kagome just shook her head, exasperated. 

"We'll be ready in a moment, Kagome-sama," Miroku said soothingly as he patted her shoulder and pushed her in the direction Inuyasha had taken. "Sango and I must pay our respects to Mushin-sama. It will be quick, I promise," he called to Kagome's retreating back, already beginning to walk up towards the temple. Sango followed him quietly. 

Silence reigned once again. The temple quickly came into view and with it, Miroku's foster father semi-drunk and laying on his side once again. He quickened his pace, and Sango allowed herself to fall further behind him, watching him sadly as he hurried to say goodbye. 

Her movements eventually slowed to a stop and she closed her eyes and felt the breeze on her face. "Goodbye," she said quietly. She didn't know whom or what she was saying it to. 

When Sango had caught up to Miroku, he was shaking his foster father's hand. "Farewell, Miroku," Mushin said with a jovial smile. "May our paths cross again." His eyes saddened slightly as he dropped Miroku's cursed hand. Sango bowed quickly, uncertain, before Mushin stepped forward and embraced Sango as well, patting her on the small of her back. 

"I didn't say it to him, that he has three days to live and all that," Mushin said in a low, sombre voice. "I wouldn't be able to tell him I was joking." 

"I know," Sango whispered tightly. "I know." 

* * *

The pair was heading towards the steps when Miroku suddenly took hold of Sango's wrist, startling her out of listening to the sound of their footsteps on the grass. 

"Tell me now, while we're alone," he coaxed gently. 

The words hitched in her throat, and failed her. 

She twisted her fingers around his, and held his palm tightly, trailing her fingertips across the cloth. 

Something pulsed beneath it. 

"Miroku-" 

It pulsed again. 

He wrenched his hand out of her grasp and grabbed his wrist with his other. His face was filled with panic and fear, and he cried out as the sky blue prayer beads shattered and dissipated around them in pieces. 

She only watched silently, unaware of the tears that glazed her eyes and the acceptance in her heart. 

She could hear him screaming at her, demanding that she run away and take Mushin, Kagome, Inuyasha and Shippou as far away from him, and this place, as she could. 

"Get away now!" 

His shouting grew louder each time. 

Instead she took a small step forward. 

He tried desperately to close his hand and point it away from her. "What the hell are you doing Sango! Get away!" 

It only made her move faster. He saw through squinted eyes the way the wind violently whipped at her clothes and hair. 

She circled around him, with some difficulty as the wind grew stronger the closer she came. She fell to her knees, threw her arms around him, and kissed the side of his mouth gently. 

He pushed at her with his other hand weakly. "What are you doing?" he choked out. "It's time. It's happening now. It's over." 

She met his eyes with a small smile. "I know. I just want you to know something, before this is over." 

She reached behind her head and untied her hair, letting it wave in the wind. She knotted the white ribbon loosely around his wrist. 

"You have to be strong, even without me. Remember why you're here. I want you to live, above everything else. I've given you all I can." 

Her lips met his, soft and bittersweet. 

"It's not your time." 

He grit his teeth in order to keep from crying out. "Don't," he managed to say. 

Her back was already turned to him as she walked a small distance away, and rotated to face him. Though the grass was being pulled from the ground and mounds of earth being sucked into his hand created noise and chaos around him, he could still see her lips form those three words. 

The three words that he thought would have kept her living. 

Her small body was soon picked up into the current, grass and dirt swirling around her. She could see Miroku, flailing his arms and still cursing loudly. Somewhere behind her, she thought she even heard Kagome. 

'Remember why you're doing this,' she told herself firmly. Memories of Kohaku rose to the surface of her mind, which faded into the more recent ones of Miroku, and it strengthened her resolve. 'You love him. Both of them." 

As he watched, unable to do anything, Sango moving through the air towards him, recollections of his own flashed before his eyes, suddenly he realized, and his pleas grew more urgent. 

_"It wasn't the way I envisioned the end, the end of our legacy as taijiya"_

"No! Please!" 

_"It wasn't what he wanted though."_

"Please, don't Sango!" 

_"It was for you. Teach you a lesson." _

"Sango!" 

He continued to scream, sometimes for her to stop, other times in pain. Sango obstructed herself from his cries, because she had made her decision. There was no turning back, even if she wanted to. 

And so she closed her eyes, and waited. 

* * *

Miroku's throat soon grew hoarse from shouting, and his voice cracked and grew dry. He saw the obscured figures of Kagome, Inuyasha, and Shippou, but they stayed away from him. They knew better. 

He began to take steps back in hopes that Sango would regain her head and move away from him, instead he felt his foot catch on something and he fell hard onto his back. 

'I know why you're doing this Sango," he thought to himself in anguish, as he slid along the earth. 'And even though I'm angry and against it, I know I would do the same for you in an instant, with no hesitation -' 

She was closer to him now. 

"Because I love you!" he shouted. "I love you so much!" 

His vision blurred as her body twisted and spun, being absorbed into his hand. He couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach. 

Then he felt something strange. His arm had been hurting him horribly, and the pain had already begun to spread up his arm, however he began to feel a small warmth building in his hand. White light shot from the hole, causing him to squint, but he wouldn't look away, though it strained his eyes. 

In an instant, the light faded, the wind died, and she was gone. 

His hand shook as he brought it in front of him, and his face took on a pained expression as his eyes took in the palm of his hand, full, real, and flesh. 

He looked at the chaos around him, and saw that he was in a small crater, not as large as his father's, but moderately sized nonetheless. Above him stood his companions, lost for words. 

A slightly worn white ribbon hung limply from his wrist. 

* * *

**AN**: I'm sorry everyone, it's been over a month since I last updated, but as I'm sure you can tell from the quality of this chapter, I just haven't been focused. A whole ton of stuff happened over the last month, a death in the family, personal problems, etcetera, so my mind has just been three places at once. I am very disappointed in myself at how I wrote this, especially since it's the final chapter, not including the epilogue, but since it's been so long I just wanted to get this done and posted. I think the biggest flaw other than the writing was the continuity. I'll probably go back and fix this one day, but I want to thank everyone who's been so supportive of me and this story, thank you so much for everything! There's so much I have to say, but I can't think of it all. Just, thanks =) 

**HMPrune -** I don't think I ever mentioned my age on this site, but yes, I would agree that I am pretty young, and I don't even compare to the more experienced writers, I'm just trying to get better. Sorry for not updating sooner. It's been a hectic month. 

**tessie-fanfic - **Ah, you hoped not! But she did! This was pretty sad to write. Then again, it is under angst. Thanks for sticking through it. 

**animefreak808 - **Hmm, I was on a pretty long vacation from writing this too, are the monkeys back yet? Thanks for all the support throughout the story. It made me get off my lazy ass and finish this, because I'm a guilty person. 

**Haeli J - **I got pretty sad writing this myself, but I intended it to be a sad fic, so no one to blame but me. I'm sorry for the late update but I hope you'll be happy (or sad) with it. 

**dd-inuyasha71643 - **I did read your fics awhile back and reviewed. I don't know many other authors or know any people (I'm all alone in the fiction world) but I'm here if you need any help. 

**LiLpsYchO - **I'm unpredictable? Wow. That makes me happy. Well, I hope you're okay with this chapter, but something tells me I'm going to get some "I'm sad now" reviews. 

**Lyra Pelgina - **Uhm (looks around nervously) I hope you're okay? Especially after this one. Please don't be sad! It's fiction! It's fiction! So smile? 

**Sylver-Ajah - **Your last review really put the pressure on me, so now I'm probably anxiously awaiting for your response above all others. I'll have you know I never intended on killing Miroku, just thought that it would be different if he wasn't the one that died from his curse. I read your other oneshot awhile ago, I'm pretty sure I reviewed it, but I'll tell you again that it was awesome. 

**Psycho Hanyou - **Well, it took me a little over a month, but I updated! 

**InuYashaBishi334 - **Yeah, I liked the last chapter too. A little happier and less depressing than THIS one. I hope you can enjoy it, even though it's so...depressing. 

**Pline - **Heh, I will and will always believe I write...blah. I can't recall reading any of your fics but I'll be sure to check them out and PROVE they are super! 

**Blood Red Emerald** - Thanks for your review, though I'm unsure if you're cheering for the depressing story or for me :) 

_Void: Goodbye revised/uploaded June 1st, 2004_


	6. The Dream

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Inuyasha.****

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**Void **

**Six : The Dream**

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He sat by it every waking moment. 

The crater was almost directly aligned with his father's, a few yards away, though not as large. In the center a stone monument had been erected, and a few stems of fresh flowers adorned the base, along with a small glowing candle. 

The prayer beads lay where they had scattered, embossed into the dirt. During the day, if the sunlight hit the crater at a certain angle, they would shine a brilliant turquoise. He didn't bother to collect the beads and string them back together again, no, he didn't need them anymore, right? After all, he had concluded that if anyone deserved a sparkling memorial, it was Sango. 

Sometimes he rested along the edge, looking down into the center, other days, he would move closer, kneeling next to the monument, burning incense and praying. Kirara accompanied him frequently, curled up next to the stone or atop Miroku's knee. 

The funeral was a quiet one. Since there was no body, the stone monument was carved and placed in the center of the crater, courtesy of Mushin. Miroku recited the learned prayers and performed the proper rituals as he always did when they buried people. 

Usually, since he said the prayers often on a regular basis, he ran through them without a problem. However, during the ceremony for Sango, he stuttered and paused several times, twice even letting his words trail off until he was standing there silently, unaware of the others looking at him strangely. Once he had shaken himself from his momentary trance, he continued from where he left off. 

After two days, Inuyasha, with all the sensitivity he could muster, suggested to them that they continue. He even went as far as to talk to Miroku privately about the matter. 

"Listen, I know it hurts. You loved her and all. I know what it feels like," he said with a surprising hint of sadness in his voice. 

Miroku nodded silently, understanding the reference to Kikyou. 

"But, we have to keep going. She would have wanted that, right?" 

"I know that's what she wanted," Miroku said quietly. "And you're right, we'll leave first thing tomorrow morning." 

They had decided to leave most of Sango's belongings in the crater temporarily once they had gathered them together. A blue cloth that contained the uniform of the taijiya, a short sword, and the Hiraikotsu. 

One day, he vowed to return to the taijiya village and establish a proper shrine for her, along with the one at the temple. He would move her weapons and possessions there, and he hoped she would be happy enough that it at least appeared she lay to rest with the rest of her fallen comrades. She would have wanted that. 

However, Miroku decided to keep her hair ribbon, leaving it tied securely around his wrist as a replacement for his rosary. The glove and the ring stayed, for reasons even unknown to him. His palm stayed covered. 

He never did tell their friends why exactly Sango had gone that way. He knew they probably suspected something, and were waiting for him to confess. If anything, they would assume it was an accident. That was unlikely. 

As much as he didn't want to believe it they had noticed him staring at his hand, directly into his palm where a hole leading into an endless void had once resided. If they had seem him do that, then they surely had deciphered that it was gone. 

But for some reason, most likely Kagome, they never asked. In fact, they gave him plenty of space. Now, he was not one to sulk like Inuyasha would in a similar situation, no, he was just a severely weakened and fragile version of himself, behind a indifferent and guarded appearance. 

A week had almost passed before the event that forced Inuyasha and Kagome to confront him. 

-- 

Night had swept over the land, and the group was now settling in for sleep. Miroku did not offer to get them board for the night, and honestly, he didn't think he would be able to if he tried. Things like that required a confidence that he just did not have at the moment. 

They were sitting around a small fire that Miroku, next to Kirara, routinely poked at with a stick. Kagome lay snuggled into her sleeping bag, along with Shippou, and Inuyasha had just gotten up from where he sat, intending to jump up to the low branches of a nearby tree. 

Before doing so, he turned to Miroku. "Hey," he began. Miroku looked up. "You gonna be alright?" he asked in a tone halfway between concern and feigned suspicion. 

"Yeah," Miroku replied with forced nonchalance. "And Inuyasha - " 

He turned around again, waiting for the rest. 

"Thanks." 

He nodded, before jumping onto the tree, settling on a branch, deciding to keep watch. Should anything happen, he didn't know whether the monk would be capable of putting his all into a fight. 

Miroku cast the stick aside and lay down himself, leaning against the side of a large Kirara. He didn't expect to fall asleep, he knew better than that. If he hadn't been able to properly rest since she had gone, it wouldn't be any different now. 

He hadn't been able to face it, that she would never be beside him fighting again, never be seeing her again, hell, even groping her again. Maybe he was afraid to face those facts. So he tried to shut it out of his mind. 

He stared up at the sky for a moment, wondering if her soul had successfully passed on to the next world. Every now and then a dark thought crept into his mind, such as what if her body and soul were forever trapped in the void, wherever it led to. Wherever it was, he was sure it was a frightening place. 

However most of his thoughts were of her, who she was, where she was now. He never liked to think of her as dead, simply because she had made him feel so alive in their short time together, affiliating her with being dead made half of him dead as well. 

The last moments before she left were the ones he always found himself dwelling on, even when he tried his hardest not to. Though the situation had been extremely chaotic, her hair and clothes whipping about, her expression was calm, and understanding. Maybe she had even been smiling at him, sadly, as she neared her end. 

He knew now, for sure, that this was what Naraku had wanted. But the minor details, everything else he wanted to know, had gone to rest with Sango. 

When she was absorbed, his curse had disappeared. That was what she was so reluctant to tell him. Why? Because she knew him all too well. She knew that if he had found out that she could close the Kazaana, he would never allow it. 

So that's where all those questions came from. 

She probably thought that he would become angry. She would insist on doing it, if it would save him, but he would refuse and push her away, so she would have second thoughts. Maybe she even thought that he wouldn't let her come near him, especially after the nightmare incident, just to make sure that she wouldn't try anything. Miroku turned onto his side and closed his eyes. 

The worst part is that she was probably right. 

_'My solution to everything...pushing her away. It always got her hurt.'_

-- 

He didn't know how long it was before he felt his body relax as he fell asleep. Instead of being bombarded with images of that dreaded day, something else materialized in front of him. No, all around him. 

He paused, twisting to look at his surroundings, and was able to take in what seemed like an endless blue sky on a flawless day. A relaxing breeze was blowing past him. This was strange, with all the chaos clouding his mind, he dreamed of...a perfect place? 

Catching him by surprise, someone ran past him. It was a girl, long hair fluttering behind her back, a green apron tied in a dainty knot. It couldn't be- 

"Sango?" 

His feet had started to move before he even registered what he had saw. 

"Come on Houshi-sama!" her voice rang playfully in his ear. His title. He had missed that too. 

__

__"Hold on, you're going too fast!" He had to run a little bit faster, or else he would lose sight of her. The pleasant wind blew past him rapidly, and the grass was soft under his bare feet. 

She slowed abruptly, and he ran past her a few steps. 

It was then he noticed their surroundings, aside from the thick grass he'd been running through prior. The outer fortifications of the taijiya village loomed before them, looking newly repaired and carefully constructed, appearing majestic in front of a familiar backdrop of mountains, and the compliment of strategically placed trees and foliage. 

"Isn't it beautiful?" she breathed, putting a hand over her heart. "I wanted you to see it exactly this way." 

"Where are we?" he heard himself ask. Was he dead? 

"Isn't it obvious?" she replied. "In your conscious. You're asleep. Dreaming." 

"But, this place," he said, confused. "I don't get it." 

"Actually, it's wonderful, just the way I remember it. You see," Sango explained, indicating the village, the field, and the beautiful sky above them. "All of this is your conscious. It's you that remembers the village, the mountains, the trees, everything." 

He watched as she suddenly looked down, examining herself. "You remember me well, Houshi-sama. I thought I would have larger breasts or a shapely ass or something trademark of your imagination." 

He was too abashed to respond to her relaxed demeanour. 

"And you...how are you appearing to me? Speaking to me? You're...you're just a memory, aren't you? Is this just how I want to remember you?" 

She cocked her head to the side, thinking about this. "Yes and no. My appearance is that of how you remember me, but my words, my actions, are all mine. My essence, my soul, is here. I wasn't able to pass on. Yet." 

He thought he would die right then in his sleep. 

"No, no it's nothing like that," Sango assured him, seeing how he instantly tensed at her previous words. "I did die. I felt myself leave my body. It's just that when I did, I didn't ascend to the next world." 

"And why is that?" Miroku whispered. 

"I didn't want to yet. Not because I had a grudge or was angry, but because I was regretful." 

"Of?" he asked in a still barely audible voice. 

"What you didn't know from the beginning." 

"Sango," he heard his own choked voice say. He pulled her towards him and held her firmly and desperately, free of any dignity. His hands gripped her shoulders, squeezing the fabric of her yukata between his fingers. He nudged his face into the curve of her shoulders, inhaling deeply the scent of fresh fruit and wildflowers under the noon day sun. He remembered it so well, how could he forget? 

"Are you here to torture me?" 

Her eyelids fluttered shut as she smoothed his hair. He relished that feeling too. They both did. 

Eventually her hands began to push at his shoulders. At first he resisted, but she won in the end and he was forced to stare at her face, every curve, every shape, every mould exactly as he remembered it. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to be in momentary shock as she observed his face, his eyes bloodshot and his skin littered with red patches. He hadn't even known he'd been crying. He forgot those times, during the night when he was alone, when he just couldn't hold it in anymore. 

"Hardly, Houshi-sama. You're still confused about things." 

"I am," he gasped. "It's been killing me, Sango." 

She swept the sleeve of her yukata gently across his face. "That expression doesn't suit you, Houshi-sama," she said, chancing a small smile. 

"Why did you have to go?" His hands, resting on her shoulders, began to shake. 

"I thought you would have figured it out by now. If I'm not mistaken, you are extremely perceptive," she chided. 

"For me." 

She withdrew his arms from her shoulders and paced a small distance away from him. 

"Yes, for you," she confirmed, still facing the opposite direction. She looked towards the sky. 

"And your hand?" 

"Healed," he answered. 

"For once, Naraku was right," Sango commented. 

"I knew you did that on Naraku's word!" Miroku exploded before he could stop himself, dams of emotion bursting. "That was a stupid decision Sango, you knew very well that he could have been lying!" 

"But he wasn't," Sango said calmly, silencing him. "His explanation, it made sense. But Naraku, he does not understand how strong human emotions can be." 

Miroku fell on his knees in the grass, looking up at Sango's back. "Why me though? Why us?" 

"He thought that when I died, you would die shortly after, which was a condition of the curse. That is because you were the reason for the death of the one you love, you would be so overcome with grief, you would become weak and die." 

She now turned around, piercing him with her gaze, on his knees before her. 

"The curse, it was a punishment on your line for being lecherous. Love was a weakness, in Naraku's eyes. And so he made it that if the cursed man met a woman he loved, and they joined, the void would consume him. If he refused women, or the one he loved, he would die alone and end the line, and finally, the last option, which I took." 

"But father...and mother..." 

"Lucky. The curse takes the men at younger ages down the line. Your grandfather, he was cursed after having lived most of his life. Then your father. Then you. So if one had children without love, that detail made sure the line ended at some point." 

He couldn't string a coherent sentence together. "But we...you and me..." 

"We did. And even now, I still wonder if you would have lived longer if we hadn't. But the signs all pointed one way. What if you died and I never had the chance to experience your love? What if I died and you wished we had been together? It's all 'what ifs' and regrets. I didn't want that. I didn't think you would either." 

"Still, Sango, you shouldn't have. You're a better fighter, you're stronger. Y-you didn't deserve this!" he almost shouted. "It's all because of me!" 

"Stop it, Houshi-sama," she said quietly. "We could stand here and argue the rest of your life. But even you have to wake up and face what's ahead of you." 

He would not back down. "But that was what he wanted! Couldn't you see that?" 

"Naraku...he's so arrogant, he underestimates weakness. Thinking you would die of grief...no, it only makes the drive to kill him stronger, doesn't it, Houshi-sama?" 

Miroku's body heat rose as he heard her words. He hated him. More than ever before. 

"I will make sure he's dead, for you Sango. So you can live in peace." He stared hard at the ground, pretending it was Naraku's heart as he ground his fists into the grass. 

She stepped forward towards him and bent down to his level. 

"I want you to live in peace as well, Houshi-sama," she said. "And find happiness." 

"I did. With you," he said shortly. "And my name. Say my name. As much as I miss hearing my title, I miss hearing my name more." 

Sango sat back on her heels and regarded him sadly. "Look at me first, Houshi-sama." 

"I can't." He tried hard to concentrate on the grass, though his eyes strayed to the line of her shadow. "It hurts." 

"You know how they say you can't feel any pain when you die?" she asked quietly. "I didn't, but I do now, because even though I'm merely spirit, essence, you're still a part of me, your feelings are still mine." 

He was shaking so hard, but gathered the will to look up at her. When he saw her, sitting there, he felt his soul break into a million pieces yet again. 

He crawled to her, and she accepted him, pulling him down on the grass beside her and rolling her body over so half rested atop his. A shaking hand rose to cradle her face, as he had done before, many times. 

"You don't need this," she said, feeling the fabric over his palm on her face. She tinkered with the clasps and it eventually fell from around his forearm, and she threw it aside. The ribbon remained, nestling in the joint of his elbow. He felt the air between his fingers as he flexed, and quickly replaced his hand upon her cheek. 

She rested hers over his, stilling it from it's trembling. 

"Miroku," she breathed, not calling him, or trying to get his attention, but just letting his name leave her lips. 

His heart couldn't take it anymore. He lifted his back and crushed his mouth to hers, desperately, clinging and fisting his hands in her hair, which was still unbound. Just as it was that day. 

"I miss this," she whispered against his lips, as he paused to breathe. 

"Then why give it up?" He moved to kiss the skin just beneath her earlobe. 

"No regrets, Miroku." 

"I still regret though, Sango," he said as he pulled her even closer against him. 

"And why is that?" She nestled her head beneath his chin. 

"I regret the fact that we couldn't get to Naraku soon enough." 

"That is out of our hands, Miroku. Don't blame yourself." 

His grip on her tightened. "And even then, I can't find happiness again, not when I've already found you." 

She almost looked sad, though she tried to hide it. "You can find it. You can have what you've always dreamed of. Children, a beautiful wife-" 

"No. Don't say that. I don't want another wife. You're my wife. Nor do I want children, not without you." 

Her smile. He missed how beautiful it was. 

"Don't make jokes, Miroku. You're still mourning, you don't know what you're saying. That is what you want now. With time, you'll realize that we've all got to move on. And you know that you'll come back to me, in the end." 

"There is no end." He still shook his head, defiant. "I love you. Only you." 

Her fingers brushed at his bangs. "It's hard, isn't it?" 

Damn, the tears were coming again. "It's so hard." 

"Miroku...you can still love me and love another as well." 

"I only love you," he said firmly. He struggled to sit up, and arranged her on his lap. "See this, your- no, our village, this wonderful, peaceful place? This is what I wanted. This is my conscious! Me, and you, together, here!" 

"You know, it's words like that that make me wish things could have been different," Sango confessed with a bitter smile. "Such devotion. My father would have loved you. I would leave out the part about you being a pervert though." 

"I would gladly tell him he fathered a child with the shapeliest ass in the entire village," he said, in all seriousness, though there was a hint of a smile on his own face. "No, the entire country! One that made me gladly give up my old ways." 

She giggled, and with a roll of her eyes, guided his wrist to rest his hand on said shapely rear. 

"Does it feel different without that covering on your palm?" 

It lingered, but eventually travelled back to her face, trailing a thumb over her cheek. 

How he wanted this to last forever. 

"Imagine, us married, living here with everyone. Father, and our friends, and Kohaku - " 

There was a tense pause. 

"Kohaku," she repeated again. 

"One of Naraku's stipulations was that Kohaku would be freed." 

Miroku stiffened. "He hasn't returned." 

"I know, but he's still alive. I know it. He just hasn't found you yet." 

She turned on his lap, and latched on to the front of his robes. "You must protect him." 

He felt slight guilt rising in his heart. "But, how can I...his life is tied to that shard...and in the end, when it is all over..." 

"Miroku, I honestly don't know what will become of my brother, but, I implore you. You don't have to bring him back to life, or beg Sesshoumaru to revive him, just...protect him." 

He rested his forehead against hers. "But what if I can't?" 

"You protected me from many things, countless times. I know you can." 

He angled his face to catch her lips in another kiss. 

"Sango. I failed to protect you from me." 

"You have to stop that Miroku. Would you rather we had never met?" 

He thought about this. "Yes," he said firmly. 

She withdrew from him. "You don't mean that." 

"Fine, I don't," he mumbled, gathering her close again, he felt incomplete without her near. "I just can't stop feeling so guilty, so empty." 

"You just need time," she said softly. "And now, you have all the time you need." 

"I'd still rather have you," he said into her hair. "The rest of my life is a gift, and really just a stepping stone to wait until I am with you again." 

"You can be with me. Just for now..." 

She leaned back onto the grass, pulling him down to her, with a mischievous smile on her face. "Familiar?" she asked, as she tugged on his robes. "Hopefully you remember what I look like everywhere." 

"You think I wouldn't?" he said with a lopsided grin, though she didn't find it lecherous at all. 

It was amazing how she could make him smile, even in moments as bittersweet as this. 

-- 

"Did that qualify as perverted?" Miroku asked suddenly. The girl next to him shifted positions slightly and smiled into his bare chest. 

"Yes." 

She leaned up to kiss him. 

"But I don't care. I expected as much. I can now come to the conclusion that you have a dirty mind." 

They shared another tranquil moment. But in this situation, the peace he felt could not last forever, no matter how much he wished it would. 

He lay a hand across his forehead. "Sango...it's a plague to live without you. And now, right now, is wonderful. Can't I just die right now?" 

She sat up and regarded him sternly. "And make my sacrifice in vain? No. Ignorance is bliss, Miroku. You'll live a long, happy, healthy life, and enjoy every damn second of it." 

He managed a smile at her blunt statement before holding her close once again. 

"It still won't be the same." 

A few more silent moments passed while he cherished the feeling of holding her in his arms. He could hear something in the distance, but he ignored it. No distractions, his one and only focus was Sango. 

She believed otherwise. "Miroku," she said suddenly. "Do you hear that?" 

"Yes, but I don't care what it is," he answered sleepily. "It doesn't matter. Stay here." 

"I'm sorry Miroku, but this means I have to leave now." 

He sat up at these words, fighting the feeling of overwhelming fatigue weighing on his body. 

"You can't go! I won't let you!" he argued, holding on to the end of her green apron she had hastily tied around her waist. 

She looked at him sadly. "I don't want to leave you either. But I have to." 

The sound was getting louder. 

"I have to go back now, Miroku. My soul...is at peace." She bent to kiss him once more, and though he leaned as far as he could to prolong the feeling, her lips left his. 

"Sango!" he tried to yell, but words failed him. "Not again. Not this again." It came out instead as a choked sob. 

She had taken his hand while they kissed, which was a mistake because he was gripping it so tightly he feared he would break her fingers. But did it really matter? 

"You have to let go..." She sounded so sad. "There are others waiting. For both of us." 

"I want to believe you! I want to believe in us! Don't you?" he cried, breaking down. 

"We'll see each other again, Miroku, and when that day comes...I'll be waiting right here for you. I love you." 

Somehow his hand grew slack and her fingers slipped through his. Again, he reached out, willing his arm to stretch and keep the contact with her, just for one more moment. 

She was walking away from him now, her form growing smaller and smaller, and he crawled towards her, reaching desperately, begging her not to, but it felt as there were lead weights on his arms and legs, and he couldn't stand to run after her. She didn't turn around, and as she neared the village, the large gates opened before her. 

He slammed his arms on the ground, cursing himself for letting her go again. He willed himself to stay awake, but his vision was blurring, and the scene around him turned dark, as the mystery sound all around him grew louder until it was a pounding in his brain. He grabbed his head with one hand and his heart with his other, trying to keep both from exploding. 

Everything turned black, and for a moment, he falling through a world of darkness. But he could still hear that cursed noise. 

It became clearer. The volume had faded from a earth shattering pounding to light thumping. Was it his heartbeat? 

He felt his body finally hit something hard and he clutched his head, crying out Sango's name as his eyes shot open. Beads of perspiration had collected on his brow, and he gasped for air frantically, keeping a steadying hand on his chest. 

The sound, it was coming from the waking world, and even in his disoriented and exhausted state, he could sense someone approaching. 

Footsteps. They were soft, but distinguishable. 

As was the clinking noise of a long chain. 

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_Void: The Dream - July 15th 2004_

Yes, I know you're all thinking, "I swear there was supposed to be an epilogue," but things got altered. This is not the epilogue, it's chapter six. And while I only planned for this sequence to be a small flashback at the beginning OF the epilogue, it occurred to me that it would be very hard for Miroku to figure out what he wanted to know all by himself. And so Sango appeared, and said she would tell him. Right. It might be a tad confusing. 

**Vilja** - Did the title of the chapter worry you? Don't worry, I would never do something like that, write all that angst and have it end up being some big fluke at the end. No. That's too harsh. Thank you as always for your reviews. I know you were waiting for this. 

**HMPrune **- There is a somewhat happy ending. I think. Can there even BE a happy ending after all this? Thank you for actually sticking with this story, and I hope you'll review once again. 

**tessie-fanfic** - I don't know if my brain can handle it but there is more. I managed to prolong the torture. Mmm-Hmm. And thanks for all your support. 

**Sara **- Umm, sorry for not "updating soon," this was an extremely hard chapter to write, and I was trying to work on other things at the same time, but I hope you'll still follow the story through to the end.****

**Demon-Slayer13 - **It's a teeny teeny bit more until it's "really," over. ****

**Sylver-Ajah - **Sorry to have kept you waiting so long, but I really hope this was worth it, especially if there's still a little more coming. I'm waiting patiently to hear your reaction.****

**animefreak808 - **I hope your evil monkeys have a long life span after waiting so long for this update. Even though it supposedly 'ended,' the big thing happened, you can still fit some more angst in between the cracks.****

**Demon Exterminator Barbie - **You'll be my friend? I better take down my advertisement then. Haha. Yes, I love your long reviews, they are always nice to read after long hours of writing. And I'm sorry that I'm so negative about myself, it's just that it's a habit of mine. An annoying one I know, and I'm cutting down.****

**Lady Sango 7 - **Well, you were right about the angst. And yes, during this chapter is when I think I got the most sad. Keep in mind I was sad before I started writing too. I just wanted to punish myself by making myself sadder. Right. Anyway, I'm sorry you missed your 'opportunity,' and if another one presents itself, be sure to hug! Hug until you can hug no more! No regrets.****

**LiL psYchO - **Didn't end it there, instead drew out and prolonged the angst even longer. There's a little more left to this story, and we all need a break to get happy.****

**snowfall - **Thanks for the hug, feeling better, and it helped. I hope you'll be back to review this chapter too.****

**Haeli J - **I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter, and that it stood out as powerful to you because I tried extremely hard to convey the feelings here. Thank you for all the support you've given this story since the beginning. ****

**Sango - **It's funny how people get so sad reading angst, and yet they want more. It's addictive! I hope you enjoy this latest offering after a long overdue time.****

**MapleRose - **Well, it's not the epilogue, but its more nonetheless. Thank you for the compliments, it really increases my motivation to write.****

**KeeraSango - **Thank you for...your loss of words! Really, I'm glad that words can have as big an impact on people as visuals do.****

**FriendsForever247 - **At the end, the crater was from the ground sucked up around him, and he's alive, don't worry. I hope that confusion didn't ruin it too much for you. I'd be devastated. He's alive here too. Just in case.****

**Aamalie - **Yes, the world always needs more angst. But right about now I need something happy. I think we should feel sorry for the characters. They get put through a lot of crap. And there should be two categories, one called "Angst," and one called "ANGST" because I'm feeling a bit ANGSTY right now. Anyway, thank you as always for being an angel and reviewing even though I'm sure you have tons of things to do. I should be more like you. Oh, and I don't have AIM, but I do have Yahoo Messenger? 

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****I'm blessed to have had such overwhelming success for this story, and once again, a big thank you and lots of love for all your help. I'm sorry for the long delay of this chapter, it's been over a month and I apologize. This chapter was really hard for me to write, and I hope you "enjoy" it as much as I "enjoyed" writing it for you. It's hard to type with water in your eyes.


	7. Run

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha

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**V****oid**

**Seven: Run**

- 

- 

His eyes shot open and clamped shut repeatedly, and he held shaky hands to his temples, where the beads of sweat that had collected poured over his brow, and to his chest, in which his heart thumped so forcefully he feared it would burst from his body. So many images filled his mind, but he didn't know what to make of them. 

Above it all, he still heard the footsteps, and his senses immediately heightened their level of caution, honed by countless battles. 

Other feelings had to be put aside for now. 

He gave his eyes a few moments to adjust to the dim illumination of the weakly flickering fire, and felt for his staff. Feeling his fingers curl around the cool metal, he listened again. His forehead creased in disbelief. It was obvious now...a swinging metal chain. 

The movements he made alerted the hanyou above him, who promptly jumped down with a soft thump. 

"What's going on?" Kagome asked sleepily whilst being shaken awake by Inuyasha. 

"Someone's coming," he replied quietly. "And damn, it smells like-" 

"I sense the shard," she cut in abruptly, rubbing her eyes in a rough manner. "It can't be...Kohaku-kun?" 

The name left her lips in a panicked breath. 

Inuyasha nodded in response as she sat up, and they both looked towards the trees where Miroku was standing, alert. His face was a stony mask, as though he hadn't heard Kagome's words, and if he had, he acted as though they had no effect on him whatsoever. 

"Hey Miroku - he's coming your way, " the hanyou warned. 

The figure, blanketed in shadow, eventually stumbled out into the clearing, catching Miroku by surprise at the way he swayed with every step he took, his fingers barely gripping his weapon. 

He did not appear to be possessed, and instead he looked utterly lost and confused. On his back there was a carrying cloth, similar to the blue one Sango brought with her. 

Miroku looked unsure of what to do, but was forced to think of something quick when the young boy approached him. 

"I know you," he stuttered, turning towards him, the fire casting deep shadows across his young face. "You're a Houshi. I've seen you with..." 

Kagome wriggled out of her sleeping bag and raced to Kohaku's side, while Shippou looked on with half-lidded eyes. 

"Kohaku-kun? Are you okay?" He tipped dangerously to one side, and she steadied him. 

There was a collision of metal to dirt as a curved blade fell to the earth, a long chain following. 

The boy kept a firm grip on his forehead. "I know you too. Kagome...I tried to kill you." 

He fell to his knees. "Too many - too many memories. Blood...Screaming... Make it stop!" 

Inuyasha watched the whole situation warily, a hand gripping the hilt of Tetsusaiga. 

"Do you think that...this is a trap?" Kagome asked him worriedly. 

His amber eyes flicked to Kohaku, who was crouching on the ground, trembling. 

"Naraku is sick enough to play a trick like this," he voiced, his features hardened. 

Miroku had remained silent. Naraku actually keeping his word. Kohaku was here, weakened and confused. Not to mention that he was having memory lapses, by the way he was acting. It was as if Naraku had scrambled his mind one last time before letting him go. 

There was only one way to find out. 

"Kohaku," he said sharply. "Where is your village?" 

He only seemed to clutch his head harder. "I - I don't know." 

"Do you have a sister?" 

"Do I have a...ane-ue?" He looked up, his eyes suddenly full of emotion. "You know her! My-my sister, Sango! She's a - a taijiya. Where is she?" 

Kohaku had rushed over to Miroku, gripping the hem of his robes as if he were begging. "These voices in my head, they keep telling me to find my sister. The exterminator village...I think that's where I'm from..." 

His hand gripped his staff harder at his words. "Kohaku," he began in a tight voice. "You should get some rest. We can talk more tomorrow." 

"Please, honourable Houshi-sama, you must help me find her! What if she's looking for me? What if she's hurt?" 

Miroku looked away from the boy's distraught face. "Tomorrow." 

Reluctantly, he let go of Miroku's robes and Kagome led him away to help put him to sleep. "I - I can remember!" he called out behind him, and it took Miroku everything he could not to turn around. 

Inuyasha, still cautious of him, took his weapon, the chained sickle, and brought it with him back up in the tree branches. 

Unsettled, Miroku resumed his previous position, and as if he was not having enough trouble getting rest, what little sleep he did get was disturbed by thoughts of the boy that was Sango's brother. 

- 

-- 

- 

Miroku awoke to Kagome, Inuyasha, and Shippou looking down at him strangely. He sat up, suddenly alert. "Where's Kohaku?" 

"He's still asleep," Inuyasha said gruffly. "Never mind that, I have a few questions to ask you." 

"Miroku-sama," Kagome began. "Kohaku-kun showing up...does this have anything to do with - with Sango-chan?" She barely said the name. 

"Sango, she's pretty smart," Inuyasha added. "There had to be a reason she would do...that. Kohaku's here too." 

Miroku sighed, anticipating the questions. They were inevitable anyway. 

"Look at this, my hand," he said, holding it out. "The curse is broken." 

Kagome stared at it, blinking, finally able to examine his hand from a closer perspective. With great effort, she grabbed it and poked his palm gingerly. "Does that mean...Sango-chan..." 

"I can tell you what you ask," Miroku continued. "Sango had been acting strangely, as I'm sure you can all recall. I knew that she knew something, I could feel it. Then, a few days ago,my Kazaana, it overcame me, and when I was about to be taken, she threw herself at me-" 

He paused to swallow. 

"You had arrived by that time. When she was absorbed, the hole was gone." 

"She saved you then, didn't she?" Shippou commented, wide-eyed. "Maybe it was a condition of the curse?" 

"But why?" Kagome sighed in confusion. 

Miroku thought hard, drowning out their voices, and trying to piece the information together that was fast fading from his memory. 

Naraku had threatened her, using Kohaku to re-open the scar that he had given to her the first time the blade of his weapon had pierced the skin on her back. He told her all about the curse, and what she could do to save the lives of those she loved. Sango had then been burdened with that information, bearing the strain all on her own because she knew him all too well. She knew that he would never allow it. 

"I - " 

He looked from Kagome's anxious expression to Shippou's confused one, to Kirara's large, sad eyes. She mewed. 

"I'm not really sure myself. I'm guessing you were right, Shippou. It was a condition of the curse." 

It was because fate allowed them to fall in love that she would have be the girl to save his life, through death. 

A small voice in the back of his head seemed to coax him. Naraku hated that humans felt emotion, and were, in turn, slaves to those feelings. 

Naraku thought he would die of sorrow. 

_"Miroku...I can save you."_

"Yes, but Kohaku showing up..." Kagome voiced her thoughts out loud, bursting through the uneasy silence. "Inuyasha, did Kohaku attempt anything last night?" 

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "The most that happened was that he had some nightmares. Strange. They seemed genuine, but - " He glanced to where the boy appeared to sleep with his back turned towards them. "I still don't trust him." 

There was another stretch of awkward silence, interrupted by a rustling of sheets. 

Someone cleared their throat quietly, and the group turned to see that Kohaku had awoken and was now quietly standing before the group, huddled together however silent. 

"Excuse me," he said awkwardly. 

"Oh, Kohaku-kun, you're awake!" Kagome said in a feigned enthusiastic tone. She gestured to the small stack of bowls she had set out next to the pot on the fire, and she faltered. 

There were six. One each for herself, Inuyasha, Miroku, Shippou, Sango and an extra one today, for Kohaku. She always set out an extra one every time, as though Sango would run over the hill, Hiraikotsu in hand, declaring that she was hungry. 

Her hands shook as she took one of the bowls and stuffed it back in her bag, mumbling to herself the entire time. 

"Always an extra one...I always forget." She slumped over the large yellow backpack, her hair falling in front of her face as a shield. 

As Inuyasha tried to figure out what to do with an emotional Kagome, Miroku stood up promptly, directing his attention the boy standing silently watching the whole ordeal play out. 

"If you're not hungry, you can come with me, Kohaku. We can talk now." 

The pair walked a good distance away, Kirara following, and Miroku suggested they both sit under the sprawling shade of a tree. 

"I've had time to think. And I'm ready to plead my case," the young boy began, his hands in fists atop his knees. 

Mewling, Sango's cat-demon crawled into his lap and curled into a ball. 

"I know there's nothing in it for you to help me, I don't have any money, or anything to offer - " 

Miroku opened his mouth to interrupt, but Kohaku continued to speak over him.  
  
"But I'm missing so many things, so many parts of my life, and I know that if I find my sister, I'll be able to ...make some sense of everything." 

He brushed a shaking hand over Kirara's fur. 

"Just...please." 

Miroku continued to stare straight ahead, idly fiddling with the ribbon around his wrist. 

"You knew my sister, didn't you? I can sort of remember you...I can sort of remember a lot of things..." 

The other man nodded, a slight shift of his chin. 

"Will you help me find her?" Kohaku asked hopefully. "She's a taijiya, we exterminate demons." 

"I know who the taijiya are," Miroku responded in a distant tone. 

"Then you do know her. Her name is-" 

"Sango," Miroku finished. "She travelled with us, looking for you. You were under the control of Naraku." 

His expression became crestfallen. "I knew that..." He was biting his bottom lip. "I made ane-ue give up so much for me." 

The young boy glanced at Miroku's fists, which had tightened to the point of whiteness as he spoke. He looked to his face, void of expression, save for a tight line that was his lips. 

"She loved you very much. She would give up a lot to have you back." 

"But...I know I killed everyone. How could she still care for someone like me?" 

"Under the circumstances, you didn't. You were controlled. She loves who you are, not what you did under someone's control." 

"That doesn't change the fact that I know I did it," Kohaku sighed. "I woke up in the forest, and my head pounded with so many images. It was hard to tell what was real and what wasn't. And then I found your group, and I remembered them." 

He looked down at his knees again, ashamed. 

"I remember injuring ane-ue." 

"It wasn't your fault, Kohaku," Miroku repeated. "You were controlled by the demon Naraku." 

"I know of Naraku," Kohaku said quietly. "I see him in my dreams sometimes. Last night, I lay awake for a long time, and I saw him, in my mind." 

"Does he tell you to do things for him?" the man asked bluntly. 

"No," Kohaku replied, shaking his head. "I think - I know that they are memories." 

Miroku turned to look at the younger boy, who still stared straight ahead. 

"What memories do you have?" 

"Different ones...in flashes. They don't make sense. Not even when I try to piece them together. I see spider demons...Ane-ue being hurt. I feel a pain in my back, and this feeling...telling me to forget," he said in a soft, slightly shaking voice. 

"Then, I see her. I know she is my sister because I remember so clearly. I hurt her, I made her give up many days of happiness, just to look for me." 

He held Kirara between his hands, smoothing her fur distractedly. 

"I have to tell her I'm sorry for everything, and that I love her and hope she'll forgive me. She has a very forgiving heart." 

He leaned back against the base of the tree, looking up to the sky. 

"I just know that when I find ane-ue, I will understand things better." 

An ill feeling washed over Miroku. Here he was, with Sango's younger brother, who had just displayed his devotion to finding his sister, knowing that he would have to tell him that she was gone. 

"Kohaku," he began, trying to keep his tone neutral. "There's something you should know-" 

"Who are you to ane-ue?" Kohaku asked suddenly. "You said you travel together. So you were friends?" 

"I - Sango was-" His throat was suddenly dry. "She's-" 

"Do you love her?" 

He was silent. 

"I had a feeling there was something more... My sister never talked that much about falling in love, but she told me once that she wished she would someday, because it must be wonderful. I am quite...perceptive. I like to read people's emotions." 

Miroku looked up, turning to Kohaku. 

"Where did that come from? Do you...remember?" 

The boy looked confused himself. 

"I don't know...it just...came to me right now. It's like I've been moving so fast, everything's a blur, and now I'm beginning to slow down, things are coming to focus." 

_His memory is returning to him._

A breeze ruffled the grass while the two sat in silence. 

Miroku sighed heavily. "Kohaku, Sango is gone." 

"Gone..." Kohaku repeated, cocking his head. "Gone." 

He stared piercingly into Miroku's eyes. "I don't understand. What are you saying? Where is she?" 

"She's not with us anymore." 

"Then we have to find her!" the boy demanded, startling Kirara out of his lap. 

"Kohaku," Miroku said quietly. "Don't make this harder than it already is to say. She gave up her life for you - " 

The young boy's body stiffened and he clutched a hand to his head in disbelief. 

"Yes, I know I made her give up a lot, and I can never forgive myself, but now I'm free and we can go back to the village -" 

"Kohaku," Miroku said again, heat rising in his back. "The taijiya village was destroyed by demons the night you were possessed at the castle." 

"No," Sango's brother whispered, his bottom lip shaking. "That's not true. Ane-ue and I will go home. I'm sorry for hurting her. I'm truly sorry! " 

Kohaku felt a large hand gripping his wrist, not tightly enough to hurt, but firm nonetheless. 

"You're a strong young person, Kohaku. Just like your sister was. She wouldn't want to see you like this." 

"Please don't talk about her as if she's in the past," Kohaku said in a defiant, though pleading, voice. "Tell me where she is so we can go home." 

Miroku took a deep breath. "This is hurting me too, Kohaku, because just like you, I loved Sango very much and I still do. It is a shock now, but I ask that you take some time to let yourself believe that this is the truth. She is gone from this world." 

"No," the boy whispered. "No, no," he repeated over and over again. His right leg was twitching. 

Standing abruptly, he tried to run from the clearing, but Miroku, anticipating his movements, stood and pinned his arms around the boy, who struggled, but eventually gave in as the older man showed no signs of releasing him. 

"She's not dead. She's not," Kohaku breathed, gasping. "Please come back... Ane-ue...I was never as strong as you were!" 

Still held down by Miroku, he broke down in sobs. 

- 

-- 

- 

"How's Kohaku-kun doing?" Kagome asked anxiously as she ladled freshly boiled tea into cups. There was an extra one, but no one said anything about it, and neither did she. 

"Sleeping," Miroku answered shortly, watching the steam from the hot liquid rise and dissipate into the air. 

"We're lucky we were able to get him here in one piece," she continued in a detached manner. "The way he was insisting we look for Sango-chan..." 

She stopped, perhaps to swallow, or perhaps because she didn't want to shed any more tears. 

The monk chose not to respond, same with the hanyou sitting moodily across from him. Even the child kitsune was affected by the tense atmosphere. Despite his age, he had been able to grasp Sango's death almost as quick as Inuyasha, but not quite. After all, he had witnessed the death of his father some time before the journey had began. 

They had arrived at Kaede's village late in the afternoon, as Kagome had decided it would be best for Kohaku to rest. The motion was seconded by Miroku and fought against by Inuyasha, who wanted to leave him in another village for a few days. 

Following that argument, it had been pretty much silent between the group, the way it was now. Miroku sipped the last of his tea and set down the cup before standing and walking away, Kagome watching after him. He couldn't be around people now. 

Reaching the fence that lined the perimeter of the village, he leaned onto it, staring out into the vast green fields. 

- 

-- 

- 

He was already awake. He'd been awake for a good hour, staring up at the dark thatched ceiling and wondering if he should get up and go outside. It was still daylight from what he could see through the door. 

Footsteps were approaching, soft ones, careful ones, as if the person was carrying something delicate. 

"Kohaku-kun?" a girl's comforting voice called as the door opened. 

"Ane-ue?" he said hopefully, sitting up. "I knew you were -" 

"Kohaku-kun," she said again, but in more of a sigh, as she revealed herself to be the miko from the future. 

"Sorry," he muttered, trying not to let her see his face fall. 

"I brought you some tea," she offered, plastering a cheerful smile on her face. "How are you feeling?" 

He took the warm cup from her hands and stared into the depths of the cup, seeing his reflection on the surface of the liquid. 

"Tea," he said softly, something stirring in his eyes. 

"Two winters ago my sister returned to the village after an extermination, and she had fallen ill due to the cold weather." 

Kagome sat down next to him, bending her knees to her chest. 

"The women were taking good care of her of course, but I knew that when Ane-ue was sick, she liked to drink hot mint tea. I set about finding fresh herbs to boil for her, but it was the dead of winter and the ground was frozen. I left the village one morning, and I met a travelling herb vendor. I used the money that Ane-ue shared with me from the last extermination and bought the mint, and I made her the tea. Father was upset with me for leaving the village, but he was happy afterwards when she began to feel better." 

"Kohaku-kun," she said softly. He made no indication that he heard her, and instead brought the rim of the cup to his lips and sipped slowly. 

"That was the most I could ever do for her." 

"That's not true," Kagome countered, putting a hand on his shoulder. "She loved you very much, and you love her too. That's the greatest thing in the world." 

"That Houshi-sama...he said that she gave up her life for me," Kohaku said, careful to control his voice. 

Kagome blinked. "What else did he tell you?" 

"That our village is destroyed." 

Her heart ached for the young boy. She forgot he hadn't known. There was so much he didn't know. 

She spoke, her voice hinting at hesitance. "He has to talk to you more, Kohaku-kun. I'm afraid that I cannot explain things to you further. Miroku-sama...and Sango-chan, they were - " 

"They were in love, he told me," he finished emotionlessly. "It's my fault then," he whispered, looking up at Kagome. "I ruined his life too, because he wanted to be with my sister." 

She tried to intervene. "No, Kohaku-kun, that's not how it is at all - " 

He shook his head, in shame and realization. "It's all my fault," he breathed. "You - all of you should hate me." He set the finished cup of tea onto the floor beside him, standing up. 

"Thank you for your kindness," he said, not looking at her. 

"Kohaku-kun, wait!" Kagome insisted, trying to grab onto his hand, but he held it out of reach. "Kohaku-kun!" 

He threw open the door and standing there was the Houshi, Kirara in his arms. There was an exchange of stares, Kohaku's scared and upset one and Miroku's tired but still penetrating, gaze. He hadn't noticed how worn the monk looked. 

"I'm sorry," Kohaku said quietly, bowing, before turning around and running into the fields. 

"Watch over him," Miroku said to Kirara, who jumped out of his arms and followed Kohaku's path, transforming in the process. 

The door to the hut opened again and Kagome, with a crestfallen expression on her face, emerged. He put a hand on her shoulder. 

"What happened?" 

"He thinks that it's all his fault, that she's dead," Kagome said, hugging herself. Her shoulders shook slightly. "Did you...did you tell him the circumstances?" 

He shook his head. "I have to, sooner or later. When his anger subsides." 

"I should...I think I'm going to go home for tonight," she said shakily. "Since we're here..." 

"I completely understand, Kagome-sama. We all need to get some rest." 

"I will. Thanks, Miroku-sama." She smiled weakly. "I'll just - I'll just go tell Inuyasha then." 

He watched her figure disappear behind unruly foliage and shadows as she walked away from him. 

- 

-- 

- 

As the curtain of night began to close over the land, Miroku was relieved when the glow of Sango's firecat was seen in the distance, carrying Kohaku on her back. 

Silently, the boy swung one leg over Kirara's back and stepped on to the dirt, approaching Miroku, but almost afraid to look him in the eye. 

"Are you ready to talk more, Kohaku?" 

His head was bowed to him, but he straightened and nodded slowly. 

Miroku could see his small, quivering hands were closing into fists and stretching into open palms. Even in the dim light, he noticed the smudges of dirt and raw, red skin on his knuckles. His aggression and anger had found a way to manifest, in violence. 

The only sound they heard was Kirara, as she licked at the nicks and cuts on his hands. 

- 

-- 

- 

The inside of the hut was illuminated by four or five candles lining the walls. The two inside sat across from one another. Their eyes didn't meet, instead, Kohaku's avoided the older man's. 

"Do you have anything you want to ask me first?" Miroku began, intending to tell him first what he wanted to know. 

The boy across from took a deep breath. "How did...how did Ane-ue...die?" 

Miroku mirrored his actions, exhaling deeply as well. 

"My family line was cursed by Naraku. I had a hole in my right hand that led to a black hole, a void, that could suck anything into it. A hole that would have inevitably killed me. Around my wrist, was a rosary that sealed this hole...it is gone now, I don't need it." 

Kohaku stared hard at his hand, and, if possible, his stare intensified at the white ribbon around his wrist. 

"Instead, I replaced it with this white ribbon, pure and clean, that bound your sister's hair." 

"Where did it go? The hole?" he asked uncertainly. 

"It's gone, due to the efforts of your sister." 

His eyes asked the question his mouth could not. 

"Naraku's curse on my only be broken by either killing him, or by consuming the woman I loved and loved me in return." 

The corners of Kohaku's lips curved down in a frown. "Ane-ue..." 

"She was absorbed by the hole in my hand. By doing this...she not only saved my life, but yours as well." 

"Why is that?" Kohaku said quietly, apprehensive. 

"You might remember, you might not. But the last time you saw your sister, Naraku told her - he told her that if she gave her life to close this hole...that you would be set free. She loved you immensely, Kohaku." 

"You too," he said under his breath. 

"Yes, me as well," Miroku drove on. "And something I know for certain, is that you must live, for her." 

"How do you know that?" Kohaku asked in a soft voice. "My life is tied to this Shikon shard...this is barely a life, let alone one with meaning." 

"You can choose whether or not to believe me...but what Sango wanted more than anything was to give you the life you deserved, a happy one." 

"Can I even have a happy life anymore, Houshi-sama? My family and friends are dead, because of me, and my home, my village, destroyed. My sister, who has always believed in me, is now gone as well, in an effort to spare my cursed life. A life that is not even real." 

"Kohaku...You know...You could see it that I loved Sango. It was truly her final wish in death, as it was in life, that you be freed from Naraku's hold...that you be free to live again." 

"Could you - could you have spared her?" 

Miroku's right hand noticeably began to shake, and in response he gripped his knee tightly. 

"No. It was her decision. To save the both of us." 

Shadows flickered across Kohaku's face, and he spoke, but his voice was barely audible. Miroku found himself leaning forward to catch his brittle words. 

"Ane-ue...made a foolish decision. She did not think." 

"You don't mean that." 

"It was. Did you not try to stop her?" 

"I did. I was on the brink of death and I'd rather be dead right now than have to go through this without her. Kohaku, you have to understand what Sango had been through prior...it was weight resting on her shoulders, a weight that she dealt with alone. I had no choice." 

He paused to regard the boy, but he still looked down, refusing to meet his eyes. 

"Even now, I still wonder what more I could have done. So don't say - don't ever say - that your sister's decision was a foolish one." 

"Is there any way...that she could be brought back?" 

Miroku steeled himself. "No. Her body, as it was consumed by the Kazaana, is unlikely to ever be found. We can only hope she is at peace in the next world." 

"If you loved her, Houshi-sama...Would you have done the same?" 

His gaze dropped to the ground, and back up to Kohaku's face. "I was fully prepared and ready, Kohaku, to do just that." 

The confusion and hurt was so clear in her brother's eyes. 

_Why did you have to leave, Sango?_

- 

-- 

- 

The fields were green. An unending field of bright green sprouts, drowned in water in order to properly yield a bountiful harvest. In the midpoint of the day, the brightness of the rice stalks wasn't as visible as they rose from the ground that afternoon before dusk had fallen, but he had seen them then, and remembered them being as so. 

Just as he remembered Sango as a determined, hardened warrior, yet as shy and feminine as a lady of royalty. 

He could remember the way Sango spoke of her brother. On those nights when she was troubled by seeing him in his inhuman state, she'd almost be trying to convince herself as well as Miroku that her brother really wasn't the monster he was forced to be. 

_"Kohaku is a very kind hearted boy...He never wanted to fight, he's usually very shy..."_

His admiration in her spirit stemmed from the fact that Sango never lost faith in her brother. Sure, there was the times that her hope would dwindle, but it was always there. She saw him for who he was, and not what Naraku had forced him to become. 

He could remember her voice, choked by tears and punctuated with gasps. There was blood everywhere around them. 

_"Kohaku, he'd never...he'd never do something like this."_

Miroku hadn't had much prior interaction with Kohaku, during those times he was possessed. Holding these rare moments at face value, one would think Kohaku to be a boy to pity, that he had gone down the point of no return and it couldn't be helped. What a tragic end for such a promising young boy. 

But he knew, he had experienced firsthand the pain Sango had to go through, because in the time their relationship had grown, her pain became his as well, and they bore it together. 

It was because of that, that he felt as if he too, had watched Kohaku grow into a quiet and reserved young boy, who never wanted to fight, and always wanted to live. Through her struggle and determination, he could feel her pain and regret, that Kohaku's future could have been rectified by a single choice, may it be choosing that night to take Kohaku on his first extermination, or leaving him in the village, where he may also have died. Taking all that into consideration, what would have been the better ending for him? 

The way that Sango was, she had always felt a lingering guilt inside for what had happened to the both of them and the village, and it could never be extinguished, no matter how hard anyone tried, even himself, to convince her otherwise. Perhaps it was that guilt that drove and pushed her in times someone else would give up. She had searched for a way for Kohaku to be free until it killed her. 

She held on to the belief that they could be reunited, and overcome the tragedy together, but it just wasn't to be. As Kohaku himself had said, the shard was his source of life, and without it, he was as good as dead. But Sango overlooked that. She hoped that the love between them would be enough to suffice for his internal and mental wounds when he did remember. 

That tie, that bond and relationship that the two siblings shared, was incredibly strong, just from what Miroku could see on Sango's part. Kohaku was important to Sango, and it was now his responsibility to take care of him as best he could. It didn't matter that they were barely strangers, no, Sango was their link, their connection, and he would do all he could in honour to her memory. 

It sometimes pained him to look at the boy as well. Every time his eyes took in the sight of him, he could see Sango. Not in appearance, but in the way he held himself. Right now, as Miroku leaned again the fence, Kohaku was blaming himself for his sister's death. 

He could still hear Kohaku's question. Would he do the same? Of course, there was no argument there. None at all. Until a few days ago, his life was a downward spiral towards death. There would surely be nothing more meaningful he could do than save the life of a girl that he held close to his heart. Too close, in fact. It was the very curse in his right hand was meant to take his life that had stolen hers. 

Now he knew what the curse entailed. It was expected of him to die, because of the human weakness that was emotion. It was funny how a trait as mundane as being a pervert would eventually lead to getting someone killed. 

All this time, he'd been left to wonder _why_. Why his grandfather, why his father, why him? The answer had been right in front of his face. They were all lecherous. He'd gotten away with thinking lechery was a passable personality trait, but he was forced to confront the fact it had gotten his family line where it was when he had started this journey. Dimishing. 

Naraku. How different could things have been if he had never existed? For one, he'd have grown up with his father, maybe his mother. He wouldn't have spent a good part of his life worrying that he wouldn't live to see the daylight of tomorrow. He might have actually shown real happiness and cheer stemming from his heart instead of wearing them as a convenient mask. 

In an ironic point, would he ever had met Inuyasha, the bumbling hanyou, or the futuristic miko, Kagome, and watch them slowly develop an unsteady relationship seasoned with the conflict that was Kikyou? More importantly, would he ever had met the demon exterminator Sango, and together, spend a good amount of time skirting around their feelings for one another? 

It was twisted in a way, but Naraku was the reason their group had come together. To destroy him, and not have any more people suffer under his wrath. They wanted to fix what they could in their broken lives, and in the aftermath, pick up the pieces. He swore to himself that even though the chances he'd live to see that day were slim, he'd do everything in his power to make sure that Sango did. 

However, the thing he should have always tried to protect her against was himself, but not for the rational reasons he had thought. He was a pervert, yes. He wouldn't even deny it. That he blamed on a bad upbringing. The drunkard monk always had the best of intentions, however the lecherous tendencies _were_ within the bloodline...and he didn't do much to quash them. Instead, they cultivated. Despite that, he had to admit he had grown up to have a good heart, and was a polite young man, doing what he had to do to get by. He had to smile a little, inwardly. If anyone heard him speak those words, they'd be all scoffing and maybe laughing. Sango would. 

When she did, he would say, "If I wasn't, would you have fallen for me any other way?" 

She'd blush, of course, and maybe stutter or try to retort. But she knew he was right, because there were things she loved about him that weren't his perverted tendencies or trickery and things that were. 

Then there was the curse. Yes, the Kazaana, naturally. His number one reason to avoid her, and her number one reason to avoid him. There was a strange affinity between them, and they deviated towards each other. Maybe it was because of all the time they spent together, maybe it was because deep down under their mask of emotion, they could feel each other's pain. Maybe it was simply unexplainable, as the enigma of love undoubtedly is. 

The Kazaana was a barrier that prevented him from pursuing her, because obviously, it would do no good for her to lose another person that she came to care for. He didn't want her to have another cause to feel sorrow. How he had contradicted himself. 

How could they fight it, even if they could both see it coming? Simply put, they refused to see. Or they did, but they were blind to the fact that by avoidance, the tension only grew between them, until it reached a breaking point that was the secret about his curse, a secret that he never knew of, until it was too late. 

So was there really any other way around it? Sango, alone, was burdened with that knowledge. Surely it had plagued her in more ways than one. And he had a feeling that if he had died as was expected, she would only blame herself. 

What really was the right decision? 

If she kept to herself, and allowed him to die as it was the way it was supposed to be, could she ever live on knowing that it was the right thing to do? 

She'd spend the rest of her days in regret, in self-blame and anger, spawned from that one choice that she alone, had made. True, it could be a force to drive her to fight harder, steeled and hardened by a life of loss. But even if their meagre group found a way to defeat Naraku, what would she do then? Her heart would not be at peace. 

Now that she had made the other choice, the selfless one, what was the gain? His own life was now extended, she had given him a shred of hope that he'd live to see a grey hair breach his head. Still, that was only if Naraku could be defeated and didn't kill Miroku in the process.. 

Kohaku, he was now free, from what Miroku could assess. He was free, but that didn't stop the shard from being his only source of life. It didn't stop the fact that he would have to die when the Shikon no Tama was complete, may it be a swirling jewel of evil in Naraku's palm or a pure jewel of spiritual power in Kagome's. It didn't stop him from having to live with the knowledge that the very sister he wanted to be with was now dead. 

In the wake of it all, did the ends really justify the means? 

Her brother was now free from possession, Miroku from death by his curse, but at the price of Sango's life. The two young men were bound only by an obligation they had to this girl. They both loved her. 

Sango's love had been at the same time the most exhilarating feeling in the world and yet the one to bring him a torrent of conflicting emotions. 

That love was returned, but the intensity of that devotion proved so staggering that only in death, could it be expressed so. Harbouring feelings of that height and magnitude had scared him before. It had scared him because he always thought that he'd be the one to die. That he'd be the one to leave her alone. 

But that was Sango, always a challenge, always a fight. Always a contradiction. 

- 

- 

--

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_Void: Run - August 25th 2004_

Next chapter, I'm going to be sending out individual review responses via e-mail or IM, whatever is made available to me. Names will be listed here at the end as usual, and review responses only for anonymous reviewers that leave me no address/screen name. I can think of better comments, plus, respond to you faster! Thank you all as usual, your support means so much to me as a fanfiction author.****

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**Vilja** - I'm really extremely ecstatic that you liked last chapter. Your reviews are always so honest and you speak your mind, which is good, because it helps me to strive to improve what I'm lacking. Surprisingly, I thought I had burned myself out at this point, but when I got around to working on this story again, I had written over twenty pages before I had to stop this chapter. 

**Aamalie **- Oh lovely beta. Wow. I really did update this a long time ago. You see, you reviewed the last chapter wanting to harass me. Now a month later, you see what you've gotten yourself into. 

**KeeraSango **- Thank you for all the overly flattering comments! There are a ton of other authors who can write a great angst fic off the top of their heads, this is just an attempt by an almost-mediocre author. 

**pNay iN a b0x** - Right, you don't seem like a crier. I can tell. You're a tough one. Buff, remember? 

**tessie-fanfic **- Thank you! I'm glad you've stuck out here with me over the many months I take my sweet time writing this story. And another thank you for reviewing every time. 

**Rikou Suiyou** - I thought really hot guys would make someone happy? And no, I don't deserve such praise and descriptive similes and metaphors from a queen authoress such as yourself. 

**SangoLancer200** - Fun? Heh, sometimes it can be. Like when people walk in and they're all...Don't know what's going on. 

**MapleRose** - Twice? And the second time wasn't because of all the typos and sentences that don't make sense? Here's more as you asked (you might not remember asking) but writing this stuff really gives you emotional burnout. Thanks for reading! 

**Lady Sango 7** -You probably read a lot of books...Reminds me of when I used to read a lot...Now I don't find normal fiction as entertaining as I once did, and I usually read non-fiction, mostly how-to books and what not. As always, I enjoy reading every single one of your reviews. 

**animefreak808 **- Well...It means alot to me when people say I write well...Because it makes me think I'm getting somewhere. Thank you! 

**Miroku** - Darn...I think this was pretty close to a millennium. But it's not completely my fault! Some things came up. But thank you for sticking to the story and thank you for the hug. 

**LovingYou247** - Oh dear, now I'm not sure what to do about the ending since everyone's expecting different things! What I'm planning to do is provide two stopping points, and if people don't like the real ending, they can pretend it never happened. Thank you for all your encouragement and comments! 

**kitana-nata** - It's still going. Didn't want to burn out the readers (or myself). 

**Kitten Kisses **- Well, thanks for reviewing if you haven't been...We're all guilty of doing the lousy reviewer thing now and then. I don't blame you. Thank you again! 

**Shadow's Assassin** - A high compliment? Thank you! I'm sorry this had to take so long, but hopefully you enjoy it. 

**Katrina5** - Ah, my favourite hard working citizen. You got an early read on this one...So maybe you can find it in your heart to review? But anyway, just thanks for being there for me to bounce theories off of and what not. Your input really helps. 

**Claddagh Ring** - Thank you for the praise, and I hope you'll be reading a bit more Inuyasha fanfiction now and then. Thank you! 

**blockyourownshot **- Thank you! That's an extremely flattering compliment to me...Or it could just be that it's practically Ron's catch phrase in Harry Potter. 

**Sylver-Ajah** - We all have slumps in and out of fiction, hopefully you'll gain your enthusiasm back. If you've even come back to check on this piece, I guess. I keep making it a point to end this story, but I keep overshooting. If I had ended it on this chapter, it would have been over 30 pages long. I couldn't do that because I wanted to keep the lengths consistent, though this one is a big longer than the others. Hopefully you haven't given up on me yet. Thank you for your comments, they always help to further my abilities. 

**Mibu** - Thank you for the review! And yes, let's all laugh at Naraku. He deserves it. 

**Iggy04** - Thank you! I've never been one to characterize perfectly, and while there are some flaws, I think I'm learning how to write them a little bit better with time and practise. 

**Kikanemi** - Everyone needs something happy after reading this...Even I do. I need something sad before writing it. My emotions are just going go out of whack one day. Better late than never I suppose! I'm glad you came around and reviewed too. Thank you! 

**snowfall** - Has to end sometime, right? It's just that the ending chapter to this was getting a bit too lengthy, so I had to stop it. Will end soon though. Thank you as always. 

**suicidalslayer **- I have no idea how I managed to do it either. Um, yes they did, but I tried to keep it subtle so that I wouldn't get the axe. But in the reader's mind which is you, they could have or they couldn't have. You decide. Rude comments? Me? Never. Thank you for reviewing.


	8. Live

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha_

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**-**

**-**

**Void**

**Chapter Eight: Live**

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Sango's companions were unusual, and oddly matched, but strangely, their clash of personalities seemed to be what held them together as a group. Perhaps it was their dynamic.

The miko, she must have been Sango's greatest friend. From what he could observe, she was the one most able to freely express her emotions. He could tell that she cared for Sango, and that she missed her. From the extra bowls at mealtimes, to when she looked for Sango to have a bath with, he could see that she still hadn't wholeheartedly accepted that her dearest friend was gone.

Again, Kohaku spent a part of his time simply watching them go about their business. Sango had often said he was more content with watching than participating.

The hanyou appeared to be courting the miko. She was the type to let others know how she felt, however, it seemed like the hanyou didn't know how to handle her feelings. He was also grieving for Sango as well, but he didn't want others to notice. From what Kohaku could see, he had lost people before, and figured he hid it behind his rough exterior.

Then there was the Houshi. It was hard to decipher him, even by observance. He was different around others. When he had been telling him about Sango, he seemed raw, emotionally bare, even though he didn't want to be. Now, as he watched him lean against the fence, or sit under a tree in a contemplative stance, he was closed off to the world.

He honestly, truly, deeply wished with all his heart that he could right the wrongs of the past. If he could, the Taijiya village would still stand high and majestic, flourishing with life. His sister and his father would be alive, and maybe, just maybe, he could have matured into a younger brother to be proud of.

He didn't want to admit it, but in the mix of emotions he'd been afflicted with in such a short period of time, he couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of anger. Not the anger that had caused him to pound a layer of pulp off a tree while Kirara watched him, but a small growth of anger, like a single vein of many, that was angry at his sister.

She was so chivalrous...and caring...somewhat stubborn. She had refused to see that he wasn't the lifeless shell that he had become, and somewhere inside, was still her quiet, shy brother. That wasn't the case. He was dead. He knew he was. He had remembered it in a dream one night. He died the night he had gone to his first extermination.

There was a shard of the Shikon jewel lodged in his back, and it provided him life. That jewel had come from his village, he remembered because when he was very young he'd listen in awe as the retired exterminators told him stories of the battles with the youkai that occasionally showed up and attempted to steal it and harness its power.

Now the jewel was shattered, and it was a race between the sides to obtain it as a whole. There was a piece of it in his back. It wasn't hard to see that eventually, it would have to be removed.

Fate was horrible sometimes. Why did it have to be him? Or his sister? Or any of these people who had taken him in? Why did innocent people have to suffer in the name of power?

He was willing to give anything to change things.

And so he looked up to the sky, in prayer to the gods.

'_Please, take my life, and bring ane-ue back. Bring her to life and back to her friends, to her love, I beg of you.'_

His mind screamed at the unwavering sky that seemed to ignore him as the puffs of cloud continued their fluid path across the blue canvas.

'_She made a mistake, she cared too much, please let us correct this wrong and take my life, the way it should have been.'_

'_If you do, graciously allow me some time to see her, to tell her that I love her and I miss her. Most importantly, that I'm sorry. She left so soon without hearing the words.'_

And he clasped his hands tightly and squeezed his eyes shut, and waited. He didn't know what he was waiting for exactly, maybe for the sky to part, a light to shine down from it and for Sango to be there, smiling, thanking him. He would say that he was sorry, so very sorry, and that he was repaying his debt to her in death, granting her life.

Sadly, though a part of his heart still waited, his rational mind told him that it wouldn't happen.

However, he looked up to the sky, hoping, wishing, for a second longer.

"Kohaku." The voice didn't startle him. Even in prayer, he could notice the jangling rings becoming louder as they approached.

Miroku didn't ask him what he was doing. Instead, he simply let him know that dinner would be ready soon, should he want to eat.

Kohaku glanced upwards once more, the sky more blue than it had ever been, before following him.

--

It was late. Their voices had awoken him. Well, not all of their voices, just Inuyasha's. He could hear it without trying to listen. At first, he attempted to ignore it and closed his eyes, but when he heard his name, he moved silently a tad closer to the door, pressing his ear against the crack between the door and the frame.

Glancing quickly towards Shippou, sleeping next to him, he hesitated but strengthened his resolve once again when he realized that the kitsune probably wouldn't wake.

"I know he's Sango's brother, but we can't ignore the fact that we're wasting time here! Not to mention you conveniently going home. So many damn delays!"

There was a sound like an exasperated sigh.

"Inuyasha, he's young, he might know things about Naraku. We can't leave him alone, as long as he still has that shard."

"Why don't we just take it out then -"

"Inuyasha! It's not that simple!"

"It could be."

Footsteps, and the echo of something hard hitting wood.

"What are you so mad about? You were just at home!"

"I'm _mad_, because as soon as I stepped out of that well you were whining about me taking leisure time at home and complaining!"

"Well that's what you're doing!"

"Sit!"

A dim flash of light, and the dull impact of a thud.

"Miroku-sama, as much as I hate to admit it, Inuyasha, he is sort of right. We aren't doing much, and we should start moving, but Kohaku-kun, we can't simply leave him here!"

A brief jangling of rings.

"The most logical thing to do would be to take him with us - "There was a pause as if Kagome had tried to interrupt him. "He has had some time to recover, and he can hold his own, even only if for a little while. I am somewhat against it myself, but you are right, Kagome-sama, that as long as he has that shard, we cannot just leave him alone."

A sniffle and a huff.

"He'll be fine as long as I'm protecting him."

Someone cleared their throat, most likely Miroku, and spoke in a deep baritone.

"If that's settled, than may I suggest we all get some rest before morning comes?"

"Right. Inuyasha, I'm going home for tonight."

"What's the difference? Either way you're getting _sleep_!"

"Don't make me say it."

Footsteps coming towards the door, paused.

"Miroku-sama, are you coming?"

"No, I'll be out here for a while. You know, fresh air."

Kohaku turned away from the door as swiftly as he could and lay down facing the wall of the hut. There was a brief influx of cool air as the door opened slowly, and closed in the same manner. Everything was silent once again.

The boy thought about really trying to attempt sleep and was about to do so when in the silence, he picked up the monk's voice again. It was quiet, a mumble even, but Kohaku strained to hear it, sitting up again and pressing his ear against the door.

"Kirara, it's good of you to stay out here with me, but really you should get some sleep like everyone else..."

Incoherent mewling.

"I see...Of course you still miss her. I mean, you may be a youkai, but you were with Sango her entire life...I for but a small portion. I wonder Kirara...What will we do, when it's all over?"

A sigh.

"Sango asked me that question once, and I remember telling her...That I just...I just wanted to be with her in the end."

--

Kohaku paused for a moment, letting what he had just heard sink in to his mind.

Was it because his sister was no longer around, that they didn't know what to do with him? They were going to continue to bring him along, but only because they felt it would be safest?

A piece of sacred shard in his back...meant that he'd never be able to live peacefully? It didn't matter if that was the case, as long as he knew how and why his sister was dead, then things couldn't be peaceful.

He had come to hurt so many people, be it indirect or not. Somehow, it was still his fault. They had a mission to carry out, this group that had once included his sister, and it was a damned good one to say the least. Power was the root of this evil. Naraku wanted power, and was willing to do whatever he could, lie, manipulate, toy with emotions, cause suffering, to gain it.

Even though he had the highest hopes for them, that by some smidgen of luck, they'd be able to stop Naraku, he had to do his part. He had to help them out the only way he could...It was ironic, because the way he could help them, would be to give them more power...

The hanyou still kept his chain scythe with him, as a precaution. But he'd be damned if he needed it now. It was so clear, so simple to him what he had to do.

By now his eyes had adjusted somewhat to the darkness, and he felt the ground around him for his cloth that contained his taijiya uniform. Feeling the solid armor below the fabric, he quickly worked at the knot, opening the cloth and spilling its contents about. Taking one of his boots, he reached inside and maneuvered his hand into a concealed opening. Just as he thought, his backup weapon was hidden inside. A short, self-made hunting knife.

In reflex, he turned towards the kitsune, but the child had rolled over and covered his ears with his hands, probably due to the loud conversation outside earlier or him moving around too much. Quickly, Kohaku slipped one side of his clothing off of his shoulder, glancing down at the raised and darkened skin that were the scars left from the piercing of pointed arrowheads through his flesh.

Breathing slightly louder from the rush and anticipation of his actions and maybe from adrenaline, he ran his finger along tip of the crudely made knife and concluded that the sharpness would suffice. Taking a deep breath, he twisted his arm behind him and plunged the blade with as much force as he could muster into his back.

He let a few gasps of pain escape his lips, again glancing towards Shippou as he tried not to let any more noise betray his actions.

His breath was coming in short spurts now, as the sickeningly familiar trickle of blood ran down his spine. The hunting dagger dropped from shaking fingers, and his breathing became louder and louder, as if he would die if he didn't take in enough air.

Reaching back, willing his hands to be still, he gingerly placed his fingers in the blood that collected around the wound, feeling for the small shard of jewel that was managing to keep him alive.

Every second he felt inside that opening pained like the knife had been freshly forged in white-hot flames and was stabbing him repeatedly. Blood coated his hands but he wouldn't stop, the pain wouldn't stop until he found that shard and ripped it from his body, severing their connection and ending it all.

After what seemed like an eternity of hurt, his index finger pressed on something delicate and small, a sliver. At first he was fearful as his finger ruptured the object. He felt a strange feeling like every nerve in his body was shutting down and turning on rapidly, his heart had skipped a few beats, and his limbs would soon convulse out of his control.

_That's it...That's the shard._

Even though it was nearly pitch black inside the hut, what he could see of the walls was wavering in and out of focus.

He could have sworn later, that even if he had heard the metal rings bouncing off each other as the monk ran towards the door, he wouldn't have been able to stop.

His thumb and index had nearly closed around the sliver of the jewel when the door was thrown open and a hand had closed around his wrist, another hand pulling Kohaku's fingers away from the wound.

The voice had been wavery, strange and distant sounding, but still urgent, as though the person had been talking to him through a long tunnel.

"_Don't do it... Kohaku...If you love your sister...You won't do it."_

The last thing that he remembered, as he slipped out of consciousness, growing limp, was that the blood that was seemingly everywhere, was his.

--

He couldn't relive the feeling of uneasiness that passed through his veins. All he knew that one moment, Kirara was listening to his unintelligible musings and the next, they were both running towards the dark hut, with an urgency Miroku knew he felt for good reason.

Every time he looked at his hand it made him slightly nauseous. What did he give up for that small hole to be filled?

His life?

Not exactly.

Her life?

Yes.

Two lives?

Hers and the one he could have had.

He gave up a life with a chance to finally be happy, and damn it, he wasn't going to let her brother give up his because he thought he had to.

He owed her that much.

The sight before him froze momentarily before he came to grips with what was before him. With the dim light of the moon flooding the room, he knew that the dark pools that lay around the boy were blood. And while he had witnessed countless bloodshed in this age, none had crushed his heart the way this scene did.

Blood ran down his arms and over his shoulders, staining the fabric he wore and that of the sheet that he had been sleeping under. He was in obvious pain, so much so that he barely acknowledged that he'd been discovered. He was concentrating, as though looking for something.

What might have embedded the moment in his mind as the worst he had ever encountered, was when the young kitsune had rolled over, rubbed his large eyes, and began to wail.

It dawned on Miroku that he was looking to remove the shard. Immediately, his logical mind began to compile a list of potential motives but he pushed them aside and let instinct take over. He dropped to one knee and carefully pried his hand away from the self-inflicted would, where blood still poured freely.

He set about multi-tasking, quieting Shippou and tending to Kohaku's injury. He ignored the way Kohaku's body quaked with uncontrollable spasms and instead concentrated on keeping the shard fixed in his back. Blood seeped onto his robes, darkening the already black fabric, but he didn't care. The bleeding had to stop.

He gathered one of his robes in a fist and pressed it against the wound, praying, willing it to stop bleeding. Shippou turned away, hugging Kirara and closing his eyes on Miroku's instruction. Pushing gently, he applied more pressure, and the boy gasped, lurching forward as he struggled just to breathe.

Soon, his labored pants had turned to a steadying breaths, and Miroku feared for the worst. He had gone unconscious. The sudden lapse of silence enticed Shippou to chance a peek at the situation.

"Is he - is he dead?" the child asked in a whisper.

"No. Not if I have anything to do with it," Miroku responded, hardening his resolve. "Shippou, please try and get some sleep. It will be hard, but..."

Shippou didn't hear the rest. Miroku had already stood and was carrying Kohaku, careful to continue to apply the pressure to the wound. Without another word, he was gone.

"Kirara," the kitsune said in a low voice. "Could you - maybe we could go somewhere else? Kagome went home and...I'm scared," he finished, bursting into tears.

--

It was still night when he came to. He knew because the first sight that greeted his eyes was a canopy of swirling navy dotted with twinkling stars above him. He was outside. A spasm of pain flitted across his back as he tried to sit up, and in anguish, he remembered what he had tried to do.

His chest was warm, constricted with many layers of cotton bandages that were somewhat hardened by the great amount of blood that they had to absorb. He closed his eyes briefly; his head was hurting.

"You lost a lot of blood. Don't try to move just yet."

Slowly, he looked to the side, and the houshi, Miroku, he was there, not staring down at him, but observing the movements of the stars. Shame washed over him again, so he looked away.

"I'm sorry," Kohaku tried to say, but it came out as more of a whisper. He wasn't sure if the monk even heard it. He'd apologized to him so many times that perhaps the words had lost their meaning on him.

"Kohaku, you don't have to say anything."

"But I do," the younger boy argued, his throat scratchy and hoarse. "I'm sorry you have to deal with me."

From where Kohaku lay on the ground he saw Miroku look away from the sky.

"Why didn't you let me do it?"

There was a bemused smile gracing the monk's lips. "I believe you can answer that question yourself, Kohaku."

"You should have just let me die, Houshi-sama. I'm nothing but a lifeless body for you to haul around and protect for no good reason save for this shard. You should have let me die, and taken it. It would give you more power."

"Power, it is a fickle thing, Kohaku. People go to many lengths to seek it, gain it, and utilize it. Sometimes, it starts out as a noble cause, perhaps to help another or to do better in the world. However, sometimes that nobility becomes desire, greed, an unhealthy obsession. It is a thin gray line that borders those emotions."

Kohaku let the words sink in.

"In the end, it is security, a false form of strength that power gives. If you think that it is simply the power that we want, then you are wrong. You were important to Sango, and you are important to all of us as well."

"But I'm dead."

"Be it so, there is the theory that nothing happens without reason. There are things unforeseen in the future. I don't know...and you don't know. No one knows. One must learn not to question...but to accept. To take each day in stride."

The stars swirled above them, the refreshing night air somehow helping the younger boy to breath evenly and comfortably as his body recovered from the trauma. However, his mind was in a different state.

"That is how I once lived, Kohaku."

"And?"

"And Sango changed that. But I can't change what happened, I cannot dwell on what has passed. Remember, that when one forgets to put the emotions in their heart to rest, they have the potential to burn and overflow."

The younger boy still did not speak, instead taking to staring at the slightly illuminated form of the man who was once his sister's love.

"People...are all different. It's hard for them to express themselves, no matter how much they want to. Sometimes words are powerless, and sometimes they can become a silver knife." The monk paused as though in thought to himself.

Ironic.

"Kohaku, your dreams," he said suddenly.

Uncertain, he answered. "What about them?"

"Do you remember the dreams you had when you were young? Vividly?"

"Some."

"Dreams are fragile. Like thin glass. So why are we destined to dream?

"I don't know..." he said slowly. "They reflect a person's desires and fears? If that were the case...it would surely explain what I see of ane-ue and Naraku."

"What exactly do you see?"

"Naraku is dead. And ane-ue....she is with you."

Miroku turned his head ever so slightly, enough for him to observe the boy from out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"

"She loved you...and I am dead. I have no right. One day I did dream that we were together, like a family again, her and I, but later I had to realize that ... it could not happen. Not in this world. The Kohaku that wished for unattainable things, who lived for the past, now rests inside my heart."

It was quiet, save for the colloquial sounds of the night animals, and the light refreshing breeze across the field, as both thought of their futures, one looking towards life, the other towards death, as they came to terms with the future.

--

_In my dream, the path was so narrow, and you were so small. When the darkness drew nearer still, engulfing and choking me, the both of us, you searched until you found what it is you treasured. Even if only for a moment._

_I exist, but this body is just a puppet. If I could rewind from this worn observance - I was always the one watching - and be able to change, would it dampen the pain of sadness?_

_I scream, and it hits you in the back like an echo, metal through your skin. Even without remembering the places I've been, that which I have lost, sometimes even you, I still cry._

_If we could walk down that same road tomorrow, you'd still be the one next to me, leading me. Often, that hope becomes a joke, and I live with the me, this monster that we've both struggled with._

_Shattered scarlet memories vanish into the sky, and my fading voice is forever carried away by the wind._

_Will you ever hear it?_

--

"Houshi-sama," Kohaku said suddenly, overcome with a sudden desire to sit up, despite the heavy blood loss. "Tell me...tell me about you and ane-ue!"

Miroku turned around fully to face him, the soft light of the moon reflecting gently off his face as he smiled, his eyes growing distant, as the memories rose to the surface of his mind.

"Tell me everything..."

--

The words flowed from his lips. He didn't know where they came from, or how they started. All he knew was that he honored the boy's request, and relived his memories of Sango, their love, how it began and how it transpired.

As her brother's expression changed from one of awe to surprise, anticipation to inevitable sadness, he couldn't think of a better way for him to experience what he had missed of his sister's legacy than straight from the mouth of the one who loved her as much as he did.

And as he spoke, it was as if a brush was delicately stroking characters onto a faded parchment, each marking meaning so much more to him than what it would represent on paper. The story, beautiful and bittersweet, yet comical and endearing as only his words could make it, had to come to an end.

Eventually, the words dwindled and faded away, and the two were left to their own collective thoughts once again, each different in their own right.

However, they were always of Sango

---

--

-

* * *

_Void: Live - September 25th 2004_

Because I've been dead-tired and overworked (school, amongst other things) I'll reply to a few people on here, and the rest, I'll get to on e-mail. If you would like me to reply to you, just say so, and leave an e-mail address.

**Vilja** - I'm really in a rush to finish this now, to me it seems like I'm dragging it out horribly. Mind rants are kind of difficult for me (as is character, which I'm sure you know) and I'm working on incorporating more of the 'show, don't tell' mantra into my writing. As always, thank you for your comments.

**Kitty Katana** - Well thanks! I didn't think I'd have anything remotely close to that sort of reaction.

**Soli-chan** - Hey, I'm talking to you right now! I know you don't often review, not because you don't want to but because the site (can't use the name remember) doesn't let you. So, err...thanks! And for that other fic of mine (which will go unnamed) ...you read it? --Sigh--

**suicidalslayer** - Hi! All those nice comments were_ really_ overwhelming. Best author on the whole site? Number one? Darn, you're making me blush here. I am, not even on average with the other MS authors, not even by a longshot. Oh, and I will check out that fic soon. My e-mail is on my profile page, but I can give it to you here too. AprillMay at Yahoo.

**MapleRose** - Now that we're back in school, hopefully your brains are back. But when I updated it was still summer, so there's your excuse. Thank you!

**Iggy04** - The reason I rarely write about Inu/Kag other than random side bits is that I'm completely horrible with their characters. I struggle with Miroku and Sango enough, and there is a ton of great Inu/Kag already. As for your other question, it's winding down to a close, I promise.

**animefreak808** - Yes they did know. I believe he showed them his hand somewhere around there. It's funny how I can't even remember my own story. But, thanks for reviewing!

And hugs to Margo and Kat for their everlasting coolness.

This is the open-ending. There will eventually be a more definite ending, for closure, and for those who really want one. If you end up hating the definitive ending, then the solution is to pretend it never existed and roll with this one.


	9. Until

_Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha_

* * *

_-_

_-_

**Void**

**Nine**: Until

He could see Sango so clearly in the boy. The way he stared into space, the way he pursed his lips in thought or dejection. This was surely Sango's brother.

The jewel was complete.

Polite, he was. He expected no less. He kindly thanked Miroku for his care as life dwindled out of his body. Kohaku's head resting on Kagome's lap, Shippou holding his hand,Miroku kneeling over him and praying,Kohaku was dying and all he could do was thank him?

Miroku didn't think he could take this, being here and watching as his last obligation to Sango crumbled within his reach. He was unable to do a thing.

Even the wistful, accepting smile he had on his mouth as he died was the same as hers.

It was strange, recalling that permanently etched memory and remembering being so young and fearful of dying. Now he felt so old, yet so accepting of life.

--

In a distant part of his mind he wondered if this was morbid, the way he was waiting, hoping, expecting her.

By this time, he should have become accustomed enough to the fact that she was gone.

At least, when she returned, she could finally be complete in the afterlife, and tell him that she was fine as well.

It would be enough for him to know she was at peace.

Kohaku was buried at the furthest point west in the ruins of the taijiya village, where the backdrop of a rising sun could most prominently be seen. A broken legacy, a dwindling dream; that's what was left of the demon exterminators.

When he laid Kohaku's blade atop the freshly turned soil, he first wrapped it in the strips of white cloth he had used to tend to the boy's self-inflicted wounds. To him, they symbolized pain, healing, and the young man who had never wanted to kill, fated only to surrender his will.

He was alone as he performed the rites, Kirara obediently sitting beside him, two tails swishing. With the completion of the jewel and the destruction of Naraku, many frayed threads of their struggle had yet to be mended.

He vaguely remembered a conversation amongst their forever incomplete group, shortly before going their separate ways.

Himself, to see to the burial and write the last chapter of a story of a working class of warriors. Kirara followed him.

Kagome, to realize where her place in time was, Shippou accompanying her, free to wander and grow.

Inuyasha, to bid his final farewell to the shell of a past love, to sit in a tree and not sulk, but grieve, and to make a decision he had hoped he would never have to make.

The rainfall of the previous night had brought forth a midmorning mist that curled against the snapped planks and fallen roofs, that fell and pooled in the ridges from a youkai attack that had swept the village so long ago. The last time they had returned here, Sango had planted a few trees as some faint symbol of rebirth, of life amongst the remains.

It was here, leaning against the now young plants, that he waited.

The first violent rays of sun nearly blinded him, but he stared defiantly, filled with a desperate sort of need. He gripped his staff and stared intently at the mound of dirt beneath which there was a body.

A flash of light, brighter than that currently straining his eyes, and she was there. He hadn't seen her descend, fall from the heavens as a glowing star the size of a pinprick. The sun had risen, in front of Kohaku's grave, and she was _there._

As it faded, there was a soft clinging as a metal staff dropped swiftly to the ground, forgotten.

Still, he could not bring himself to move, to speak, to smile, which had always been so easy . . .

She was so clear, flowing, pale . . . ethereal. Surely even in death her beauty was surpassed by none. To him, no one could surpass her.

A familiar smile, blush, small wave hello. As her hair caught the sunlight it became a palate of copper, mahogany, chestnut. So real . . . so heartbreakingly real he knew that she was a reawakened soul, if only for a moment.

Even as she spoke, her milky rich voice sounded to him as though it emanated from a far away place.

"I hope you've been behaving yourself, Miroku-sama."

Footsteps fell heavily on the moist ground, his legs becoming heavy with his effort. In the end, it was worth it because he reached her, drawing his hands up her arms, expecting her skin to be cold beneath his touch; finding it instead warm and glowing beige.

She accepted him as he lowered his lips to hers, holding the back of his head and begging the deities above for one last favour in letting him have her yet another time.

Crushing her lean body against him, his hands frantically rushed to feel every part of her, solid, warm and everything but real. Tangles formed in her hair as he twined it around his fingers, bringing his fists to his face and inhaling.

"You knew I would appear. You waited. Alone."

He did not let go. "I knew there was a chance. To see you. There was a chance."

"What if I didn't appear? Would you have sat here surrounded by graves, until you wasted away and lost your mind?" Her fingers grazed his chin.

Amazing. Even when he could not string a coherent sentence together for her, she understood.

"If you knew I was waiting, if my prayers reached you, you would descend. You'd do it for Kohaku."

She lowered her head to press her ear against his chest, trailing a lone finger up his sleeve and along his arm, tracing circles in his hand.

"I've heard everything, your thoughts, prayers. I kept watch over all of you in battle. I keep watch over you. I always will."

"I'm sorry. I am sorry - "

She quieted him. "This is where his life amongst the living ends -- for real. You could only ensure that he has come to terms with his life."

"Still...he was so young. Too young."

"Miroku, you brought him here, you took care of him until the very end. You taught him why the sun rises and the sun sets, why a seed grows into a tree. He has managed to buy back some of the time as a youth that was stolen from him. That was more than I could have ever asked for."

Her eyes fell shut as he cupped her face between his sweating palms, lowering himself and kissing her gently. The wind rustled around them as the sun steadily rose, the natural sounds of life abound but unnoticed.

"What will you do now?"

"I am merely fulfilling the wishes of a prayer . . . a final plea in death."

"And then?" he breathed, swallowing.

"And then I will return to the heavens. Until that day you return to me. In the end, we will be together."

His body grew cold as she drew away slowly, smiling and kissing him on the cheek, lowering a hand and stroking Kirara. He watched as she bent towards Kohaku's grave, reaching down and drawing out the lingering soul of her brother.

She would guide him to their life together.

They became two sibling sparks against the sun, rising until they could no longer be seen, burning in the sky as they faded.

_Thank you, Miroku._

Life would always leave him with a void.

He could fill it with women, intoxication, money, pillaging . . . the list could go on and on.

Or he could fill it with a second chance.

Sango, a rising wind over the ocean, a falling red leaf in the Fall, a single snowflake in a storm, all rushing past him so quickly he could not close his eyes and revel in the sensation of falling away.

He knew loneliness and he knew freedom.

_And all that she had given me._

The final line in his historical account written, he bound the sheets together for the last time.

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_Void: Until - October 31st 2004_

Yes, that is the original completion date. I just found it, believe it or not. What a crappy ending, if I do say so myself. I sort of rushed the editing and post-reconstruction.Feel free to purge all memory of it and use the previous chapter as the end, which I think I did a little better on, believe it or not. I know this sort of makes Sango's sacrifice sort of pointless if Kohaku does die at the end, but I think she knew that Kohaku didn't have many options at the end. Really, she would bring Miroku his life back and give Kohaku a little time as well. She wanted him to have a peaceful death and to be surrounded by friends.Thanks to everyone who's been reading this, since the first chapter, which I re-read and realized how much I think I've improved. Yeah. Improved. Sure. I'm just happy I finished something. Direct all hate mail to aprill may at yahoo. Thanks again.

-- May


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